Speed Dial
by AKA DD
Summary: Challenge fic. Alec's hurt and he's been taken by strangers. Who is on his speed dial? And will he be saved in time before he is wrapped, packaged and sold to the highest bidder?
1. Chapter 1: Crash and Burn

**DISCLAIMER:** **Despite all my begging and pleading…Fox still didn't grant me ownership and copyrights to Dark Angel.**

**A/N: This fic is in response to one of Pai's Dark Angel Challenges at Nuns with Pens. And for those who have read this at NWP, thanks! It's the same story, so you don't have to re-read it!**

**_The challenge is as follows_**:

**Speed Dial**

Alec is hurt in public - how and why is up to you.

A stranger finds him and Alec manages to tell them no hospitals

The person tries to get his friends to help by calling people on his speed dial.

Who's #1?  
Who will pick up?  
Who will come to his rescue? 

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**CHAPTER ONE**:

It didn't even hurt at first.

But as the metal slid smoothly out of him, Alec McDowell could feel the burn every centimeter of the way. He gasped out loud, not even realizing the agony in the sound he made.

The pain made him lash out angrily. He grabbed his assailant by the throat with his right hand and pushed the man hard against the wall. His left hand found the man's wrist. Without a qualm, Alec locked the wrist and broke it with a sickening snap.

The man howled in pain, the sound only as satisfying as hearing the thud of his blood-soaked knife hitting the ground, his broken hand unable to hold on.

In an adrenalin-induced rage, Alec fought off the rest of his attackers. It was relatively easy since he was no longer holding back, no longer amused.

He'd been _stabbed_ dammit! And it was beginning to throb like hell. As soon as all of his opponents were down, Alec pressed a hand to his wounded midsection, immediately assessing his condition.

Blood. There was too much of it. He pushed his hand against his wound, hard. He hissed in pain, but it was necessary to try to staunch the bleeding. He could feel the blood seep into his pants and down his leg. He limped towards his motorcycle.

He couldn't just stay here in this God forsaken town. He had to get back to Seattle. He had to take care of this shit he'd gotten himself into. He briefly entertained the idea of calling Max. But she'd just yell at him and make him feel even worse than he did at the moment. He really didn't have any more energy, much less patience, for what she was liable to dish out to him.

What about Logan? He considered the bespectacled cyber-journalist, but then he mentally shook his head. No way was he gonna turn to Eyes Only and his slightly patronizing treatment of him. That was even worse than having Max on his ass about this latest scheme gone sideways. _Last resort,_ he promised himself.

He straddled his bike painfully, each movement seeming to force the stab wound to gape ever wider. _Shit!_ He thought through gritted teeth as he leaned forward over his bike to start the engine. It was going to be hell just holding on to the damn ride.

Alec rode past the small town he had stopped in and onto the interstate. The road was straight and lonely, surrounded on all sides by greenery. It would have been a blast, with the wind in his hair and face, the trees blurring into a whirlwind of every shade of green, and the roar of the motorcycle beneath him. But all he could feel was the throbbing wound, the sticky trickle of the blood, and a slight light-headedness. Soon, the greenery disappeared from his vision, and the road seemed to be getting smaller and narrower by the second.

He was losing too much blood. He had to stop soon and do something about it. He gritted his teeth, unwilling to give up just yet. _Just a couple more miles, Soldier_, he rallied himself. Even if he had to stop, the closer he was to Seattle, the better his chances of getting help were.

The next thing Alec knew, he was crushed beneath his bike, under a black pick-up truck.

He groaned as he struggled to breathe. He must have passed out for a second. He couldn't remember how he had gotten into this position. He blinked and tried to move. His body wouldn't respond. He was too weak even to panic.

All he could do was focus on taking the next breath. He heard frantic voices. He blinked and swallowed as he tried to call for help. "H..elp," he whispered feebly.

"Ohmigod, Ohmigod, Ohmigod…" Obviously a woman, her voice rising hysterically with each repeat of the phrase.

"Shut up, woman and help me!" A gruff male voice. "He's still alive!"

Alec was blessedly numb from the adrenaline his system was no doubt pumping in profusion into his blood stream. But he was seeing dancing red and block spots. His vision was tunneling quickly, a sure sign that he was about to pass out again. He focused on what he could see.

A pair of scuffed boots. Blue jeans. A ten-gallon cowboy hat. A grizzled, weathered face filled with concern.

"Don't worry, kid! We're gonna call for help!" the old man assured, his gruff voice calm and kind. He hid his panic and concern well. But Alec was too used to assessing people to know that the man was clearly terrified.

"No…" he groaned. _Exposure. White. Manticore_. "Just…get…me…out…" he groaned. _Max_.

"Irving!" cried the woman, her voice panic-ridden. "Irving, 911 is busy!"

"Damn Pulse has screwed with everything!" Irving growled in frustration. The boy pinned underneath his truck was bleeding profusely. Bright red blood was oozing out of a gash on his forehead. His leg underneath his bike was obviously broken. His clothes were torn, and the skin that was exposed was raw and bleeding—obviously from being dragged over the road.

"Kid, we're doing our best," he reassured. "The ambulance is coming." He lied, hoping the boy hadn't heard the screeching from his sister.

"No…"

"What'd ya say?" he asked, astounded that the kid could still speak. He'd've gone and passed out by now if it were him underneath all this wreckage.

"No hospitals."

Irving blinked in surprise. Then he realized that the kid probably didn't know how serious his situation was. He probably couldn't feel a thing because of adrenaline. Either that or his injuries were far worse than they looked. "Look, you might not feel nuthin', but you look real bad, boy. You _need_ a hospital."

"No!" cried the boy, his voice strong and clear.

He'd be damned, but the kid was strong. Hell, he'd straight yelled out his answer. "Are you sure, boy?"

"Yes…just…get me out…" gasped Alec, relieved that this Irving fellow was finally listening to him. He tried to move, but pain burst all throughout his left leg and abdomen, making him see red for a few seconds. The pain was making it hard to breathe. He gasped, fighting for the simple act of inhaling and exhaling. _Fuck. This really hurts._

For a moment, he briefly entertained regret that he wasn't back with Manticore. At least, whenever he got hurt there, he was assured of the best possible medical care. Now, all he had was this old cowboy and a panicky woman.

"I don't think moving you is such a good idea," said Irving, uncertain.

Alec almost rolled his eyes, except that doing so might make him black out. He was on the verge of losing consciousness again. He didn't have time to argue with this hick! What was he supposed to say? I'm a human-animal genetic hybrid made in a secret government facility? I'll be okay, cuz I have rapid healing abilities? I have people hunting my ass down so I can't be exposed? "I…can't afford…hospitals…" he said in a hoarse, gasping whisper.

Irving sighed heavily. Poor kid. He knew that with the Pulse and all, emergency room rates had skyrocketed and the government no longer subsidized them. He even knew some people who preferred to die rather than pay the hefty hospital rates.

"All right, kid, we'll get you out of there," he sighed. Then he turned over his shoulder to look at the woman he was with. "Janine! Stop calling the damn hospital and help me get him out of here!"

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"We should find out who he is, Irv," whispered Janine, her eyes raking appreciatively over the young man lying on her bed. Sure, he was bloody as all hell, but he still had a fine physique. And despite the gash on his forehead, it was clear that he was a handsome young buck.

Irving rolled his eyes at his younger sister. "Janine, just help me get him cleaned up. He's gone and passed out on us again."

They had managed to drag the young man out from under the pick-up. He had been amazed at the fact that the boy had pulled himself out half the time. Took a lot of will-power and determination to do that. Kid didn't want to die. Must have something to live for.

Or maybe he was just damn stubborn.

Either way, Irving could appreciate the guts it took the kid to save himself through all the pain.

As soon as the boy had been pulled out from under the truck, he'd fallen unconscious on Irving. He'd had to drag the man onto the back of his pick-up and ordered Janine to stay with him as they drove home.

The undercarriage of his truck had been screwed up by the accident. What with the kid veering so suddenly onto his lane and falling under it. The boy's bike couldn't even be salvaged anymore.

"I reckon he's got himself a broken left leg that's needing to be set straight," he assessed. "And what looks like to be a stab wound on his stomach. That's gotta be why he fell off his bike, poor kid. Can't understand the shenanigans boys these days get themselves into. All the vandalizing and the fighting, and to top it off, none of them can afford them damn hospitals no more."

Janine clucked her tongue. "And that's an unfortunate scar that gash on his head's gonna make, Irv." She sighed. "He's such a pretty young thing."

Irving rolled his eyes at his sister. Janine was hitting forty soon, but she still acted like a damn school girl. "I'mma give Doc Johnson a holler. Have him come down for a looksie. You clean up that boy real good and see if you can find out who he is."

"With pleasure, Irv," smiled Janine, already reaching for a wet towel to wipe off the blood. She wanted to see what he looked like without all the bloody mess.

They'd ripped the leg of his jeans off with a knife to check his leg, so Janine just reached under and felt the back of his jean pockets for his wallet. She pulled out a brown leather one, and flipped it open. There was a mighty fine looking wad of cash in it, but nothing else. No ID, no little business cards, no pieces of scrap papers with ladies' phone numbers on them…nothing.

"Huh, mystery man," she sighed. It was all so romantic. She reached over again and tried to feel if there was anything else in his pockets. She wanted to make sure she didn't miss any ID's or anything, she reasoned to herself. So what if it required poking around in _that_ area?

The young man groaned. "Hey, boy," she whispered. "Is there anyone we ought to call? A young wifey you got out there somewhere, worried sick 'bout you right about now?"

"Max…" he sighed, before falling back into unconsciousness.

Janine wrinkled her nose a bit. "Max?" she repeated. "Huh. Well, I guess if that's where you swing. What a damn waste of a fine piece of meat as you." She shrugged, and began to slowly wipe the blood off of his face. Aw, but he really was handsome.

His face was all about perfection: smooth, clean lines defined his brow, nose and cheekbones. His jaw was dusted with a slight stubble, making him look more manly than boyish, accentuating the strength of his jawline. His lips were full, but perfectly-defined. Janine sighed.

As her wet cloth traveled down his neck, to his chest, her eyes followed suit and wandered just a little bit. She sure was glad Irving had found it necessary to cut up his shirt open as well.

He wasn't too badly cut up on his chest, which was perfectly fine by her. He had a broad, leanly-muscled chest, and a flat well-defined abdomen. So, he wasn't quite as meaty and heavily muscled as most men she preferred, but it didn't mean he wasn't finely sculpted. In fact, she found herself wondering why she'd never considered the lankier type before.

She frowned when her eyes found the spot where he'd been stabbed. The wound was deep, she was sure. The tissue around it was turning a terrible reddish, purple color. But at least he wasn't bleeding quite as much from it. She clucked her tongue and shook her head at the carelessness of the youth these days.

"Now what do you think your young Max is gonna have to say about this, boy?" she berated him softly. "I'm sure he's not gonna enjoy finding little scars all over your perfect body."

She gingerly laid a clean, warm, wet cloth over his wound. "Speaking of Max…" she trailed off, as an idea hit her. "Now, why didn't you think of that, Janine?" she scolded herself. She looked around the room until she found the boy's leather jacket.

"What a waste of fine material," she sighed, seeing all the tears and scuff marks from the accident. Finally, she found his phone.

"Doc says he'll be right over," said Irving, walking into the room. "What you got there, Janine?"

"The boy's phone." She replied. "He ain't got nuthin' but cash in his wallets and pockets. No ID's or nuthin', Irv. So, I figured, we'll find out who he's got on his cell phone to contact."

"Good idea."

They both watched as Janine flipped the phone open. She pressed the call button, hoping for the most recently called number to pop up. The screen displayed the word "Empty". She tried checking for the most recent Incoming calls, too. Again, they found the memory empty.

"Hmm…must be one of 'em knock-off phones from the black market that don't got all them fancy features," commented Irving. "Try checking his phone book for someone to call." He tried to reach for the phone himself.

"I know that!" she said, swatting his hand away. She followed the Menu options, but found the entries in gibberish, mostly a series of numbers and symbols. "What the—!'

"Well, I'll be damned," whispered Irving. "I don't know who this kid is, but his phone book is encrypted."

"What's that mean, Irv?" asked Janine, her voice in awe. She'd never met anyone important enough to have bought a phone that could be programmed for encryption. Maybe…just maybe, he'd been stabbed because he was somebody important. Maybe, she had a real-live secret service agent, CIA-type spy in her very room!

Irving just scratched his head and glanced down at their unconscious guest. "Well, I guess it means we might find someone interesting on his speed dial."

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	2. Chapter 2: Paged and Dialed

**DISCLAIMER: Dark Angel isn't mine, but rather Cameron/Eglee's.**

**A/N: This story occurs after 'She Ain't Heavy' but _before _'Love Among the Runes'. Sort of like a missing episode, LOL!**

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**CHAPTER 2**

"Where is he?" cried Max, her voice rising in frustration. She was pacing back and forth in the small area Logan had sectioned off as his Eyes Only Operations headquarters in Joshua's old digs. She was wearing the wooden floors thin with her pacing for the last few minutes.

"When was the last time you talked to him?" asked Logan, as usual, his voice lacking the rancor and strident concern that usually marked Max's reactions to Alec's antics. He didn't really understand why Max got so easily riled whenever it came to Alec. As far as he was concerned, the other transgenic was only twenty minutes late.

But then again, he wasn't the one _dating_ Alec. Logan closed his eyes briefly as a small wave of pain went through him at the thought of Max and Alec being together. He should have known all along, with the way they acted up around each other. More like the way they _reacted_ towards each other.

Logan sighed. _I should have seen it coming. I should have known. I did see it coming…from a hundred miles away. They were genetically designed for each other… _It was a mantra Logan repeated to himself over and over to ease the pain of knowing that Max was now with Alec. It had been hard dealing with the revelation about Max and Alec. But he was trying very hard to be the bigger person here. So, here he was, trying to help them out with one of the Familiar-related issues.

Max shrugged. "I dunno," she sighed. "Not like I keep track of his ass or anything."

Logan raised both brows skeptically. "You _don't_ _know_ where he is?"

Max's eyes slid carefully over to study Logan's expression. She really needed to be more careful about what she said about Alec to Logan. But sometimes, old habits die hard. It had become almost second nature to her to gripe about something Alec had done. She was so used to all of his screwy antics that half the time, she was more worried when he _didn't_ screw up.

And she was sure it wasn't a very girlfriendly thing to do.

"Alec's his own man, Logan." She sighed. "I don't need to babysit him 24/7, y'know."

"Oh, okay," said Logan. "But don't you at least want to know where he goes about? I mean, he doesn't exactly have the most…_steadfast_…reputation."

She glared sharply at Logan. "What exactly are you implying anyway? You got something to say, Logan, don't beat around the bush. It's not your style."

Logan shrugged and looked innocently at her. "Nothing, Max."

She frowned at him. "Right. Because I trust him." She announced, surprised at the conviction she heard in her own voice. Now that she really thought about it, she _did_ trust him. To a certain extent, of course.

Apparently, her little announcement was also convincing enough for Logan, because he just smiled sadly and nodded. They stared silently at each other for a moment, before Max broke eye contact first. She was too full of pent up energy to stand here gazing soulfully into Logan's eyes. She was on edge just being alone with him in the house, knowing that she was supposed to be Alec's girlfriend. Alec's _pretend_-girlfriend that he didn't even know about. _And where the hell was Alec anyway?_

She continued her pacing. She really didn't know why she was so anxious to get Alec here already. It wasn't like he even knew he had a part to play in their little love triangle. Hell, he didn't even know he was part of the love triangle.

She should be relieved that he was late. Or that he wasn't likely to show up. But she _wasn't_. She was upset, instead, like he'd stood her up for a date or something. She should call him. Yeah, that's what she should do. Call him and yell at him and tell him to get his ass up here pronto!

She was about to ask Logan to borrow his phone when a thought occurred to her. She didn't need Alec. She refused to need him.

In fact, she and Logan didn't really need him to discuss tonight's situation. It was just an info session really. Logan had information, Max—and usually, Alec—would drop by to check out the lead. If Alec wasn't interested enough in it to be here, then so be it. She felt vaguely disappointed in that thought, but quickly brushed it aside. "You know what, let's just get started without him," she said abruptly.

Logan looked at her questioningly.

"I'll fill him in later tonight," she said quickly. Immediately, the reminder that she would see Alec later in the evening, wiped Logan's face clean of expression. "Of course," he sighed, turning back to his computer.

"All right then, here's the surveillance video of that place that got robbed a couple nights ago, and…" he reached over and flicked his other monitors on, "…here's the one from the club. Notice any similarities?"

"Familiarities, you mean?" she asked sarcastically, watching the video with keen interest and fascination. The Familiars in the videos were obviously as strong and as acrobatic as some transgenics were, though they fought and moved differently.

"Are you sure you don't want Alec here?" asked Logan, not able to drop the subject. "I mean, wouldn't he want to know these things? Isn't it a little _irresponsible_ of him for not being here?"

"_Logan_." She said, her tone carrying an exasperated warning. "I'll fill him in when I see him. It's no big deal that he's not here."

Logan studied Max for a moment. It _was_ a big deal. He could see the concern lurking in the depths of her brown eyes, and the irritation that caused her to keep checking the clock. He could tell that she still half-expected Alec to barge through his front door, even though he was already a good forty-five minutes late.

Logan knew better than to trust the carefree X5. For someone who was supposed to have a steady girlfriend, Alec sure acted indifferently, almost carelessly, about Max's feelings. Logan pressed his lips together, because he believed that Max deserved better. But Alec was the guy she had chosen to be with.

And Max had declared that she trusted him. That had hurt almost as much as when she had told him that she couldn't deny being with Alec. It actually meant that they had a relationship beyond those of physical comfort. To Logan, that was so much worse. His and Max's relationship had depended less on the physical than on the emotional and intellectual aspects. To find out that she might have all three with Alec…well, it just plain _hurt_. It meant that Max really was moving on, that she'd found someone else.

"I just don't want you to be making a mistake and get hurt, Max," he whispered.

"I'm X5, Logan, I'll be okay," she said, deliberately misunderstanding him. Her eyes flashed, warning him not to pick-up the subject of Alec anymore. She was just as confused, if not more so, than he was.

They studied the videos in silence, Max cataloging their actions in her mind. She'd barged into a fight with the Familiars before, completely _unfamiliar_ with their fighting style, and it had almost gotten her killed. She was going to be more careful and ready this time. And she was gonna have Alec with her.

If the idiot ever decided to show up where he was supposed to be.

Suddenly, her pager went off. She jumped, almost touching Logan in the process. They both recoiled and sprang apart quickly. They stared at each other in shocked horror for a second, before the incessant beeping and vibrating on her arm finally forced Max to look away. The pager was hooked to a case on her sleeve. Pulling it up so she could catch the flashing numbers, Max frowned. "It's nothing, let's continue," she muttered, pressing her lips together into a tense line.

Logan glanced suspiciously at her but nodded anyway. "So, let me magnify this and isolate the sounds…" he explained. He was interrupted by the loud beeping and buzzing coming from Max's arm. She threw him a slightly apologetic look and glanced down at her pager again.

It was him. Again.

This time, Logan craned his neck and checked out the numbers flashing on her pager. He frowned in concentration before sliding his eyes up to Max. "Isn't that Alec's cellphone number?"

"Yeah."

"Aren't you gonna call him back?"

She shrugged expansively. "Whatever. He's probably calling me to pick him up from one of his little side jobs going. Serves him right to have to save his own ass tonight." She muttered, not looking Logan directly in the eye.

"Maybe he's calling to apologize," pointed out Logan.

"Alec never apologizes." Max frowned disbelievingly at Logan. Why was he taking Alec's side now? "He only calls when he needs something." She said dismissively.

But Logan just kept looking at her like she had grown an extra head and fangs. He was giving her the Eyes Only look. What was it about _that Look _that really pricked at her conscience? He continued looking at her directly, his expression seemingly sad and disappointed. An expression that said, _But he's your boyfriend._

Max fought with the fact that she had trapped herself in her own lie of convenience. As Alec's "girlfriend" she should be diving headlong into saving him from his ridiculous tendency of getting into trouble. Being his girlfriend—pretend or otherwise—was a full-time job apparently.

She rolled her eyes and glanced down at her pager. "Fine! Not like taking care of his ass ain't already my full-time job." she snapped. Even while she was looking at it, her pager started beeping and buzzing all over again, flashing the numbers again. _What the--?_

She groaned, hoping that it didn't mean trouble, but knowing in her gut that it was exactly what it meant. She glanced at the numbers on her pager, and blinked rapidly a few times, as if surprised and shocked. "Damn." she whispered, her voice suddenly apprehensive.

"Damn what?" asked Logan, noting Max's concern. He leaned forward, careful not to touch her, but interested in seeing the glowing digits on her pager. There was a series of numbers that didn't look anything like Alec's phone number. In fact, the numbers were too long to be any kind of phone number. "What's that?"

"It's Alec's emergency code. His barcode, actually. It's transmitted off of his phone after his phone book is accessed and several attempts at speed dial are punched in incorrectly. It also works with star-nine. Like, y'know, instead of calling directly to 911, we've bypassed it so it comes…to his chosen emergency contact…which…apparently…is me."

"Emergency code?" asked Logan, incredulous. What Max had just said made perfect sense to him, of course. On a technical level. But on a personal level…it just baffled him. "You and Alec set this up?"

"Uh…not really. Dix did. And he just told me about it a couple days ago. I never really expected to see it in action. But Alec must be wading knee-deep in his shit to set it off. Can I use your phone?"

"Sure." He said, nodding towards it.

Max dialed a few numbers that Logan didn't recognize as any kind of phone number. Then she punched in a few more numbers after a second.

"What are you doing?" he asked fascinated.

Max shrugged. "Sent a message back to TC confirming that I received his emergency page."

Suddenly, Max's pager jumped back to life again. It was a busy night for telecommunications. She glanced at the numbers and frowned darkly.

"Who is it?"

She shrugged. "It's Alec's number again. It's actually set to page me every three minutes until I call and deactivate it." she murmured before dialing the number on his phone. "I think he suggested it to Dix. Along the lines of annoying me into action," she sighed. "He knows me too well."

She heard the phone on the other end ring twice. This was to allow Alec—or whoever was in trouble, but most likely Alec—to answer his phone if he was able. But after the second ring, she was supposed to punch in the deactivation code…but a strident female voice picked up.

"_Hello?"_

"Who's this?" asked Max without preamble, her brows knitting into a frown. The voice didn't register as anyone familiar or even recognizable in her memory bank. This was a real stranger, someone she had never once come across.

"_You're calling me, Missy," _came the tart reply.

Max rolled her eyes in exasperation. She detected a hint of a Southern twang, as though the woman had grown up in the South and had lived up North for some time. "You paged me. Three times. And this isn't your phone."

"_Ooooh…"_

Max cocked a brow. "Ooooh…what?" This was getting odder by the second.

"_You've called just in time." _The voice whispered conspiratorially.

"Just in time for what? And why are you whispering?" Max's voice was getting higher pitched with annoyance and impatience. Her eyes locked with Logan's and she motioned for him to do his hacking gig and trace the signal off of Alec's phone.

"_For the doc."_ The woman replied, coupled with a giggle. "_And I'm whispering because…it's all so… mysterious!"_

Max sighed heavily onto the receiver. "Look, lady, I don't have time to play 20 Questions, so let's cut to the chase, aiight? Who are you and where the hell did you get this phone?"

"_What's your name?"_ asked the female, her voice oozing curiosity.

"_You_ paged _me_. And I asked you that first." Countered Max, resigned to the strange conversation, if only to give Logan the time to trace the signal.

"_Okay, okay, don't have to be so mysterious about it. Name's Janine, sweetie. What's yours?"_

"Not until you tell me who the Doc is and why you have this phone." Max rolled her eyes at the cute little nickname. This better not be one of Ames White's little goonies. 'The Doc' was just such a cliché alias these days.

"_Well, honey, the doctor, of course, as in all medical-like. As for this phone, it's Mystery Man's."_ the voice said tartly. Then she giggled. _"Although, Stud Muffin would probably work better on him."_

_The Doc? Mystery Man? Stud Muffin? _Max thought without amusement at the nicknames. She felt like she had fallen into a really bad mystery novel. And then she sagged with annoyance. _Stud Muffin…who else?_

"Is _'Stud Muffin' _about six feet something, have blond hair, green eyes, and an irritating smirk by any chance? Is he standing there next to you?" she asked sarcastically into the phone. She couldn't believe Alec had the gall to give one of his little floozies her pager number. "Because if he is, tell him I'm coming to kick hiss ass!"

"_Mmm…Stud Muffin is here all right, but he ain't standing sweetheart. Not with his broken leg, possible cracked ribs, a stab wound, and terrible gashes. So kickin' his ass may have to wait."_

Max sucked in a startled breath. "What the hell are you playin' at, _Janine_?"

Logan was keeping an eye on the tracer as well as on Max. He noticed the irritation in her voice once she realized it was Alec. But her startled gasp had him staring worriedly at her. "Max, what's happened?"

'Alec is in trouble. Strangers picked him up.' she mouthed to him, covering the receiver with one bike-gloved hand.

Logan resisted the urge to roll his eyes—after all, Alec was now Max's boyfriend, and Max was still looking at him. Alec in trouble. Figures. "How?"

"_Are you, by any chance, around a guy named Max, sweetie?"_

"Why do you ask? And who are you?" She wasn't about to identify herself to a stranger, especially if Alec was out cold.

"_The poor boy's been mumbling his name in his sleep. And I told you, my name's Janine. You're not very bright are you?"_ Janine's voice was dripping with sympathy.

Max took a deep calming breath. One to keep her patience at being called stupid. Two, to stop her rapidly beating heart from breaking out of her chest cavity because of the revelation that Alec mumbled _her_ name in his sleep. He _must_ be delirious.

And then it occurred to her that Janine thought Alec was gay. She almost rolled her eyes at the idea. She was about to identify herself as Max, but held her tongue. If Janine thought Alec was gay, there'd be little chance she'd flirt with him. Why it mattered to her, she didn't care to explore. "Okay, okay, I'll tell…Max. So, where is he? And…why are you with him?"

"_Rivergrove…it's small town up just by a river. Because we ran over him with our truck, sweetie."_

"Oh, God…" whispered Max, her worry seeping into her tone and expression, making it evident to both Janine and Logan. Then the logical part of her brain kicked in. Janine had said a doctor was coming in.

Exposure. Trouble. Alec exposed and in trouble. The thought was enough to elicit a growl of frustration from Max.

"_Honey, are you okay? The Doc is almost here. We'll get him right."_

"No, tests, okay?" cried Max. "I…I want…his, uh, personal doctor to do them!" She cringed at the sheer lack of ingenuity of her response, but what could she say? I don't want anyone to find out that he's part cat?

"_Aww, honey, the doc'll be here, soon, and trust me, he needs one."_

"Don't you need, like, consent, before you run tests on him or something?" she asked, desperate to find a loophole that would allow the doctor to treat Alec, but prevent him from doing any kind of other tests.

"_Who knows? Laws ain't what they used to be, sweetheart." _Max could almost imagine this Janine person shrugging, and maybe blowing on her freshly manicured fingernails. It was an irritating image.

Max sent Logan a pleading look, and he rolled his chair over to another one of his computers. He typed in a few commands and came up with an answer. "According to a malpractice suit five years ago, a doctor may only treat a patient to the extent that it will save his or her life. However, without further consent, further treatment can only be recommended, but no additional procedures shall be done until such consent is given. Consent can be granted by the patient, parent or legal guardian of patient if underaged, or legal spouse."

Max nodded along, and repeated what Logan had just said over the phone. "So, you just make sure he doesn't die…so that, uh…Max can kick his ass!"

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"Well, young fella, looks like you'll pull through," concluded the stout, bespectacled doctor. He had just set Alec's leg with a splint, unable to put a cast on without being in his clinic at the very least. He had cleaned and stitched Alec's stab wound after assessing that "no surgery was required because no useful organs had been damaged." It was a diagnosis that led Alec to wonder what organs he could possibly have in his body that were _not_ useful in keeping him alive. But the good doctor did add the disclaimer that he "couldn't be too sure unless he got 'the boy' to a hospital."

Bandaged almost from head to foot, Alec could only smile sleepily. With the adrenaline seeping out of his bloodstream, the drugs the doctor had administered in very generous doses, and the sheer exhaustion from using all of his energy for fighting off infection, he was in no shape to be even remotely coherent. "Yeah…" and he drifted off into a deep drug-induced sleep.

A few hours later, Doc Johnson came back in to check on his patient. He lifted the sheet off the young man's leg, checking the setting. He was worried about the fact that the leg wasn't in a cast. If they didn't get him into a cast soon, he could very well end up with a deformed leg.

He eyed the swelling of the calf critically. Was it just him or was the swelling subsiding already? He touched the calf with clinical fingers, the contact causing the patient's leg to twitch.

Doc Johnson blinked. Muscle movement already. Phenomenal.

He lifted the sheet higher to check on the stab wound he had just stitched earlier in the evening and was astounded to find that the reddening had subsided. In fact, the swelling had gone down to the point that it usually did…but only after the third or fourth day after stitches. The kid was healing remarkably well.

In fact, after a quick inventory of all the wounds and scrapes he'd treated earlier, he noticed that all of them looked like they had been inflicted days ago. They were already healing.

"_What_ are you, kid?" asked the doctor in wonder.

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	3. Chapter 3: Dazed and Confused

DISCLAIMER: Dark Angel isn't mine.

A/N: And the fun ensues…

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**CHAPTER 3**

"All right, guys," said Max, her tone conclusive. "Everybody got the plan?"

Biggs and Chase, two other X5's, nodded. "Got it. You walk in, make nice and claim his body…"

"Claim his body? Damn, Biggs, you make it sound like he's dead," laughed Chase, cutting him off.

Biggs just chuckled, but let his eyes slide almost imperceptibly over to Max. "_Semantics_," he said lightly.

Chase nodded, almost as imperceptibly in understanding, covering his motion with his own laughter. No doubt Alec would be dead by the time Max got through ripping him apart for getting into trouble again. Their volatile relationship was infamous throughout Terminal City.

"Anyway, it's an in-and-out operation. No biggie. If something comes up, we'll be a couple miles down the road," continued Biggs, outlining their plan of action.

"Trying to be inconspicuous," agreed Chase, a lopsided smile on his handsome face. He had jet-black, curly and often unkempt hair, deep-set dark brown eyes, and a shadow of a slight stubble on his jaw.

Max glared at him. "_Trying_?"

"Correction. Invisible." he said, a small smirk still on his lips. "If you need us, it'll be like magic."

Max rolled her eyes at the guys. They had traced Alec's signal, and Janine's location had panned out. He was in Rivergrove, all right. Rivergrove, _Oregon._ Max had no idea what the hell Alec was doing so far away, but she would find out even if she had to beat it out of him. It was the least she could do for all the trouble she was going into.

Again that nagging question that had pestered her all night popped back into her head. She knew she was often hard on Alec—and she was damned sure _he_ knew she was too hard on him. So, why make her his emergency contact? She blinked in confusion and finally turned to Biggs.

"Why did Alec make _me_ his emergency contact? I mean, why not you or Chase or any of the other guys he's so chummy with?" she asked.

Biggs just shrugged. "Beats me. It might be 'cuz you're the one he's known the longest in the Outside…and he trusts you," he shrugged expansively. "Anyway, you're goin' over to save his ass, why don't you ask him yourself?"

"Right. And get shot down with a sarcastic Alec-comeback," she said with her own brand of sarcasm, although she wondered why she balked at the idea of really asking him herself.

"He's only like that 'cuz nobody's ever really accepted him for who he is, y'know."

"A smart-aleck?" she asked with false sweetness.

"Max, if you really don't care about him, why are you going to go get him yourself? Why not just send me and Chase together?" he asked, his eyes searching her face.

"Because he called _me_. Or at least his phone was programmed to."

"_He_ programmed his phone. Does that mean something to you?" Biggs prodded.

"Of course, it does!" she snapped at him. "He's my friend."

Biggs put his hands up in the air in mock surrender. "Okay. I was just checkin'."

Max glared at him mutinously. "I'm going now."

"And we'll be right behind you."

She cocked a brow at him. And he groaned. "Undetectable, of course. Max, we're not amateurs."

"Don't remind me," she bit off, before turning around to stalk over to the car. She was about to get in, her hand on the door handle when she paused and gave them a disapproving look that would have made all mothers proud. "You guys comin' or what?"

Chase threw her a rebellious teen look. "We're gonna be right behind you wearing our Manticore-made invisibility cloaks," he called out sarcastically.

"Good. I was just checkin'," she retorted, just as sarcastically. Part of her knew she was rubbing the guys the wrong way. They weren't like Alec, who seemed to just shrug off her sarcasm. But then again, Alec was the only male X5 she'd known for any decent period of time. And he certainly didn't make a good representative sample of the population of male X5's. So, of course, she was bound to treat them a little bit like she treated him. Just a little bit.

"I don't know what he sees in her." Muttered Biggs under his breath.

"What's that s'posed to mean?" she demanded, even though she was at least a good twenty paces away from him.

"Nothing!" he called back, and quickly rushed away before she could detain and question him any longer.

Max just shook her head in consternation as she climbed into Bessie. _Guys. They're impossible_. She gunned Logan's car's engine and groaned. Now she had to go and drive the whole damned night to get to Oregon in a box. She hated driving in cars, felt too confined. It felt completely and utterly wrong not to be able to feel the purr of her engine beneath her, or to be able to hug the curves of the road and swing effortlessly into them. _No_. She was in a damned chunky, rickety box that couldn't even begin to come close to her definition of fast. But if he was as hurt as Janine had indicated, then he couldn't be expected to hang on to a motorcycle. _He better be damned grateful for this_.

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Alec came to groggily. A faint light was spilling into the room through the cracks in the blinds. It only took a few seconds for him to blink away the cobwebs of sleep, his transgenic senses immediately alert to the strange surroundings. Something had woken him up.

Immediately, his eyes flew to the man who had lifted the sheets off of him. Well, actually, the man whose _head _was under the sheets, and whose _fingers_ were running up and down the length of his body. In a very non-medically efficient manner. He was almost _caressing him!_

Alarm ran through him, and Alec tried to shoo the guy away. He opened his mouth to yell at him. He wanted to scream at the guy to stay away from the family jewels, but his throat was so dry that only a croak came out. Fortunately, that was enough for Irving to pop his head back out and grin at him.

Alec shrank back into his pillow. Irving was looking at him with near adoration in his eyes. "Aw, shucks, you're awake," he said, his toothy grin reappearing. "I was just checkin' up on ya."

_Checking me out was more like it_, thought Alec. _I've fallen into the Twilight Zone._

Alec grinned tightly back. "Thanks," he croaked. "I'm feeling okay, you really don't have to…check me…but I'm really tired," he said, then shut his eyes again, hoping that Irving would get the message and leave. He was painfully, dismally aware that Irving was reaching over to tuck the sheets carefully around him, his hands lingering too long on certain places.

He cleared his throat again.

Irving's fingers immediately disappeared off of his body. "All righty, boy. I'mma leave you to your dreams now."

He heard Irving's retreating steps and he released a painful pent-up breath. With Irving gone, Alec was able to focus on the memories that were now rushing back to him. The fight. The bike ride. The accident…He groaned inwardly. He didn't make a sound, not wanting to draw any more attention to himself.

Irving had left his door cracked slightly open, and he saw shadows moving right outside. Irving was still standing there, along with someone his hazy memory supplied as the Doctor. Looking furtively around out of habit, Alec tilted his head slightly to the side, focusing his transgenic hearing on their conversation.

"So, I took a few blood samples from the boy last night," said Doc Johnson, his voice a hushed whisper. "I still think that it's important we find out if there's any infection in his blood, as well as who he is, where he's from, and what he's running from. I'll run his DNA and fingerprints against the database to find out who he is."

Irving scratched his head uncertainly. "Aw, Doc, he's just a youngun. How dangerous do you think he is?" He sounded like a little kid who wanted to keep a stray puppy for himself. Alec grimaced; he would break his other leg first before he became Irving's pet.

"Irv, the boy's got 'trouble' written all over him with a capital T." whispered the Doc urgently. "We don't get the likes of him in these parts too often unless they be comin' down to brew up some bad blood. He's got the motorcycle and leather jacket look of a troublemaker. And he's got a stab wound. You don't just go walkin' around into knives by accident."

Sighing, Irving relented. "All righty, Doc. Whatever you say. Wanna stay on for breakfast, maybe just talk to the kid himself when he's finally completely awake?"

"No thanks, Irv. Gotta get me back to the clinic," said the doctor, following Irving down the hall. "I gave the boy a hefty dose of analgesics and sedatives to keep him down. Can't have him moving his leg too much or ripping his stitches out."

Alec frowned at the doctor's words. One, he didn't like being stereotyped as 'trouble with a capital T'. And two, something was very wrong. The Doc was a little too eager to get back to work. Who turned down free food in this economy, after all?

His senses had been conditioned long and hard by Manticore to act almost like a lie detector. His sensitive ears picked up the uneven tremors in the doctor's voice, which indicated that he was lying. He dilated his pupils and zoomed in on the doctor, noticing the sweat and slight tick on the jugular that indicated his heart rate was working over time. Another lie indicator. He was also blinking too rapidly and licking his lips after almost every sentence. Yep, Doc was lying through his…tongue. He wasn't telling Irving the whole story. Like he knew something about Alec that Irving didn't.

Alec sucked in a painful breath. _Shit._ This wasn't good. He was probably speculating at his rapid healing. Alec silenced his thoughts that were going a mile a minute thinking of escape routes. He quickly ran a damage assessment on his body.

Broken left leg, the fibula, thank God. At least it wasn't the tibia, which was the weight-bearing bone. He could _probably_ hobble along at best.

He gingerly ran his fingers along the knife wound, feeling the stitches and the tenderness around it. He could tell that it was healing just fine. It was even starting to itch. So, as long as he didn't rip the damn seams off, he'd be okay. Which meant, he'd have to restrict strenuous movements in his midsection. No tumbling, diving through glass windows, or any sort of theatrics from him, then. Damn. That would seriously cramp his style.

He moved his shoulder, feeling the tightness and the swelling. It had been dislocated and popped back in recently. No punching with the right arm just yet.

There were several scrapes and bruises along his left side, too, but nothing major.

Overall, he was in poor shape and would probably injure himself further if he tried to escape by himself. Besides, his ride was junk by now. He had to resolve to other tactics.

He'd have to call Max.

_Damn. I'm in for it, now._

He let his eyes wander around the room until he found his leather jacket hanging on the back of a chair. His phone was in there. All he had to do was get to it.

Four feet wasn't so far.

He could make it. Pushing himself up with his left arm, Alec struggled to sit up. He released a hiss of pain as his body protested the movement. Transgenic or not, he was pretty mangled up.

Dropping his right foot onto the ground, Alec tried to push himself into a standing position. The strain of the action sent blood rushing to his head, his vision flooding with red, drowning in darkness. _Oh damn._ Low blood pressure. The next thing he knew, he'd fallen straight to the ground, banging his head on the side table along the way.

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"What happened?" cried Doctor Johnson into phone. He had just finished sending the lab work order on his new patient's blood samples. He hadn't even had two seconds to sit in his chair when his pager had gone off, flashing Irving's number on its tiny screen.

Kid tried to get up.

"Impossible! I gave him enough sedatives to knock out a bull."

Well, not really seeing as he's sprawled on the ground. He's ripped his stitches and bleeding all over Janine's carpet. But not much. And I didn't tell ya this earlier, but the kid came awake for a coupla seconds when I was in the room with him.

"Jesus, Irv! You don't keep these things from your doctor. Well, I'll be there in twenty minutes!" he sighed. Who was this kid? What was he? "How's his leg, Irv?"

Not good. Damn stubborn SOB, chuckled Irving over the phone line. Don't know how he does it.

Neither did Doc Johnson. After ending his conversation with Irving, he sat on his chair and steepled his fingers in contemplation for a moment. Then he picked up his phone again.

"Hello, Carlene. I need to speak with Doctor Cruz. I think I may have a case that might just be right up his alley."

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"What happened?" croaked Alec as he came to hours later. His gaze slid towards the window, noticing that the sun was already setting.

"See what I told you, Cruz?"

"Impressive."

Alec's eyes fluttered over to the speakers. One was obviously Doc Johnson. But there was someone new. Someone with dark brown hair, heavy lidded blue eyes, and a cruel mouth…wearing another white lab coat. _Another doctor. _Alec's skin started to prickle with unease as he watched the new doctor—Cruz—pull a syringe.

He fought to control his emotions. He had seen that same act several times. Seeing the needle slip into a small vial. Watching an unknown liquid climb through the needle into the syringe. Being helpless has a doctor held the syringe to the light to measure its contents. Fighting panic as a doctor squeezed out air bubbles, squirting some of the liquid into the air. Paralyzed with fear as the needle came closer.

"No!" he cried, his voice coming out strong and angry.

Cruz and Johnson both jumped back and away from him, wearing identical expressions of awe and fear. With the amount of sedatives they had injected the patient only two hours ago, he should, by all rights and accounts, still be knocked out. Much less able to talk. Or in fact, struggle to move.

Alec's near-panicked state escalated as he realized that he was restrained. Both his hands were cuffed to the bed. He started to pull against the cuffs, rattling them noisily. That was when he realized his right leg was cuffed as well.

"What's going on?" he demanded angrily at the doctors. His mind was no longer hazy, but completely alert.

The two doctors looked at each other wonderingly. This boy was a scientific wonder. A scientific anomaly. A specimen to be studied.

Doc Johnson cautiously approached the young man. "Boy, we had to restrain you for your own good. You tried to get up and almost killed yourself," he explained, his voice the deceptive calm that doctors often used on their unsuspecting patients.

By now, Alec realized that it was useless struggling against the cuffs. He was too injured and he was only expending much-needed energy. He sagged back down into the pillows, but his gaze remained steely and determined. Dangerous.

His green eyes stared straight at the new doctor. "And what's that for?" he asked, his voice low and cold.

"It's for the pain, son."

"Well, then I guess you can just put your pretty little needle away because I'm feeling just fine and dandy at the moment. Never better, actually," he said sarcastically, even managing to smirk at the doctor. He watched carefully as the two men in white coats looked suspiciously at each other before Cruz started forward.

"Unfortunately, it's also for something else other than the pain," he whispered, leaning forward and taking Alec's left arm. He positioned the needle just over the inside of Alec's elbow.

Alec knew that tensing his muscles would only hurt him more, so he forced himself to relax, his eyes never leaving the doctor's. He felt the small sting as the needle broke through skin and situated itself into his artery. The effect was almost immediate. In less than five minutes, his heart rate was starting to slow down. Too much. The rest of the muscles in his body were starting to feel like jelly, too. He couldn't even struggle against his restraints.

A muscle relaxant.

But no, there was more. He was too drowsy, lethargic. As if the synapses in his brain were misfiring. Not a muscle relaxant then…but something that depressed his central nervous system.

With hazy green eyes still locked with cold blue ones, Alec smirked and whispered, "Barbiturate," before blacking out.

Doc Johnson looked incredulously at the young man, now in a very deep sleep. "How did he know, Cruz?"

Cruz was still staring speculatively at their patient. "It's not his first time being administered the drug," he whispered, his voice indicating that it was a thought that had just occurred to him. "He's felt this before."

Johnson walked up and grabbed the small vial that had contained the drug. "You gave him _all_ of it? That's a dose higher than the state has sanctioned as safe! Cruz, he could slip into a coma! He could _die!_"

Cruz just waived away Johnson's concerns. A strange Cheshire cat smile was now playing slightly on his lips. "If he dies, Johnson, we can't be held _too _accountable. Overdoses with barbiturates happen all the time. The difference between the safe dose and lethal dose are not too far away."

Johnson's mouth dropped open. Everything in him was starting to rebel against Cruz's tactics. He should never have called him in. "Cruz, this wasn't the plan! This goes against the—"

"I changed my mind," cut-off Cruz, staring coldly into Johnson's eyes, as if just daring the shorter man to challenge him. "But if he is what I think he is…he'll be just fine in about four hours."

"What is he then?"

"We'll see in about four hours."


	4. Chapter 4: Hide and Seek

**DISCLAIMER: Dark Angel isn't mine. Nope, not mine at all. But Alec is. Really. I keep him in my pocket. Wanna see?**

**A/N: It's a short chapter, but I'm getting there…and oh, yeah. I lied.**

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Max found the house easily enough. It was exactly where Luke had 'X'-ed it on her map. She eyed the place curiously, her eyes noting several details all at once.

The house was an old two-story Victorian with a neat little attic. Though shabby, it looked well-kept enough. She cocked a brow at the fact that the house was painted yellow with light blue trim. _Very cheery,_ she mused.

Then she noticed the pick-up on the driveway. She saw the damage to the front as well as a familiar streak of bright green paint that disappeared into the undercarriage. Alec's paintjob.

At least Janine had been telling the truth about Alec's accident.

Max strode down the driveway, gravel crunching loudly beneath her boots. She wondered briefly how she would introduce herself considering how she had led Janine to believe that Max was…well, a man.

Her lips twitched in amusement. She was definitely going to make sure Alec never forgot this episode.

Max stepped on a piece of glass that shattered under her foot. She lifted up her boot and instantly recognized the broken remains of a test tube—she'd been made in one after all. Her transgenic eyes zoomed quickly to the dirt surrounding the area and realized that there were pebbles and gravel stained a rusty dark brown color. She crouched down and scooped some of it into her hands and sniffed.

She instantly recognized the sharp tang. Blood.

In a test tube.

"Shit!" she cursed under her breath. They'd taken blood samples! That could only mean that they had started to suspect Alec. Quickly, her eyes darted back to the house. Her eyes scanned all the windows, suddenly realizing that all the shutters and windows were drawn closed. As if the people inside were afraid of someone coming in.

She swung her head back to where she came from, her eyes immediately recognizing there were at least three different tire tracks. There had been more cars, and yes, a truck, on the driveway at some point. Maybe only a few hours earlier, judging by the depth of the tread still.

Not caring who saw, she blurred towards the front door and kicked it open. The door came off its hinges and slammed onto the floor with a loud crash.

"What in all hell is goin' on!" came a gruff voice, as Irving stepped out of the kitchen into their living room. He stopped short at the sight that greeted him. There was his door flat on the floor, a woman striding in, walking on top of the fallen door, boots crunching, head tilted sideways saucily, hands on her hips.

"Where is he?" her voice was clipped and low, almost military in the demand.

"Who are you?" sputtered Irving, blinking away his disbelief at the dramatic and violent entrance of this woman. A very beautiful woman-a fact he finally realized after his initial shock.

Long dark hair, exotic face with large brown eyes and the fullest damned lips he'd ever seen, a gorgeous figure hugged beautifully by a tight black tank top, a black strap of her bra peeking slightly on her left shoulder, and low slung dark blue jeans. Standing in the doorway, silhouetted by sunlight, she seemed to glow like a dark angel.

There was something about her. Too beautiful. Almost uncanny in her perfection. It reminded him of someone…and then Irving realized who she was looking for. He blinked rapidly, his eyes shifting from side-to-side. "I…I ain't got no clue what you're talkin' 'bout, lady," he replied, gulping afterwards.

She narrowed her eyes at him, before slowly scanning the rest of is house. She strode in slowly, confidently, with a kind of grace that Irving couldn't help but be mesmerized by. His jaw dropped as she stood right in front of him. Damn, but this girl was even prettier up close. Not in the perfect Little-Miss-Barbie-Doll way, but in the way that the imperfections of her face made her…arresting.

"Again, where is he?" she whispered, her voice a low hiss this time. Dangerous.

Irving gulped but held his ground. She was just a kid. A girl, to boot. "Hey, you're the one who came barging in! You owe me a door!" he cried, mustering up just enough indignation to hide his unease.

But before he knew it, the girl had him in a chokehold, pressed against his wall, his toes barely scraping his floor. He sputtered, his eyes showing whites in fear.

Max couldn't believe what she was doing. But the moment she had walked into the house, all she could smell was blood. Alec's blood. The air was drenched in it; her enhanced sense of smell had instantly detected it.

And she had also sensed that he wasn't here. She didn't know how or why, but she just _knew_.

Her concern had developed into full-blown anger when she realized the man was lying to her.

So here she was, acting uncharacteristically, with an old man pinned up against the wall. "We can do this the hard way…or you can just answer my question and forget this all happened," she whispered. "Now, where is he?"

He wheezed, but didn't say anything coherent. He was barely struggling. Underneath her hand, she could feel his pulse thundering in fear. If he didn't calm down soon, she was almost sure he'd have a stroke. It wasn't like she was really choking him anyway. She was just using her strength to hold him up under his jaw bone. Strongest bone in the human body. She pushed Irving even higher up, this time, not even the laces on his shoes were touching the ground.

She saw his eyes roll backwards, and felt his muscles slowly going limp. Oh damn, she'd overdone it. He was gonna faint.

Suddenly, she heard a footfall and the unmistakable sound of a shotgun being cocked.

"Put him down, you Freak!"

Max's eyes slid to the side, letting her peripheral vision assess the situation. This had to be Janine. It was the same strident tones from the phone conversation late last night, annoyingly amplified by the fact that she was only ten feet behind her. She had a sawed-off shotgun aimed at Max's back.

Max lowered Irving slowly to the ground. The poor man slumped into a heap on the floor in a dead faint.

"What did you do to Irv?" she cried.

Max hid her smirk. "He fainted." she replied blandly.

She turned around slowly, her arms raised to the sides as if in surrender. She smiled slightly at the older lady. "Hey, it's Janine…right?" she asked, her tone friendlier. Her mind was quickly assessing the danger in her situation.

Janine narrowed her eyes at the beautiful girl standing in front of her. What was it that they put in the water these days that kids were now starting to look like damned models? She sure had been born in the wrong century. And did they put vitamins in the water, too? Because damn, the girl had all of Irving's 170 pounds lifted right off the ground.

"And you are?" she asked cautiously.

"Looking for our mutual friend, Alec," replied the girl easily. She started to walk towards Janine. There was a smooth, sinewy grace with the way she walked. Sort of lazy but also purposeful at the same time. Even with her hands up, the girl looked like she was dangerous.

Was she in the same gang as Alec? Was she wanted by the same men who had taken him? Either way, she raised the shotgun higher, defensively. "Freeze!" she yelled, using a term she'd always heard them cops say.

The girl pouted prettily. "What if I don't want to?"

Janine's eyes grew wide. Was this girl not afraid of the fact that a shotgun was aimed right at her? "Honey, do you have a death wish?" she asked shrilly.

"Not particularly at the moment," replied Max, keeping her tone light. She noticed that the pitch of Janine's voice had gone up a couple of notches. Yep, she was starting to panic. Max wondered briefly whether Janine had ever fired a shotgun before. But that was moot, because even if she hadn't, she still could at the moment. She had to keep her cool, and keep her movements deceptively slow and non-threatening.

She took another small step forward, and watched as Janine's shoulders tensed, pulling the shotgun even closer to her.

"I said, hold it right there!" cried Janine, panic leaking into her voice clearly.

Panic always clouded the minds of Ordinaries briefly, and it was the chance Max was waiting for. She blurred quickly behind Janine. "What if I want to hold it right…here?" she asked, before easily picking the shotgun out of the older woman's hands.

This time, Janine screeched. Max had to resist covering her ears. Holy hell, but the damned woman had a set of lungs in her. Max reached over and covered her mouth and pushed her against the wall.

Janine looked certifiably afraid now. Irving was starting to regain consciousness, groaning. Max briefly considered knocking him back out, but decided against it. She wasn't really that much of a bitch. She just needed to find Alec.

"I'm only going to ask you one more time," she whispered to a frightened Janine. "Where is Alec?"

Carefully, she removed her hand from Janine's mouth. She watched as the older woman swallowed painfully. "They…they took him." she whispered.

Max frowned, quickly losing the moment of amusement she had with Janine and Irving. They were simple folk that had somehow gotten caught up in some things that were just beyond their comprehension. She couldn't help but feel sorry for them.

But she was increasingly annoyed too. "_Who_ took him?" she demanded.

"That new doctor…and some others," said Irving, his voice barely a croak.

"What doctor? What others? Where did they take him?" she all but yelled at the both of them.

"We don't know!" sobbed Janine, her voice rising in hysteria to match Max's raised voice. Then, she too slid down the wall and onto the floor. "Please don't hurt us," she wailed.

Max was furiously trying to process all the new information. Alec's trail was growing colder by the second. She needed to get a handle on the situation. "Look, I'm not gonna hurt you, okay?" she assured them, her voice kind and calm.

She slowly moved back away from them. "I'm just gonna drop this gun over here and we can talk, all right? Nobody's getting hurt. I just want to know some information about Alec. Which doctor treated him?" she asked calmly, aiming her question at Irving, who seemed a little more coherent at the moment.

"We called Doc Johnson. He's the local doctor hereabouts," he replied, not looking at Max, but at the shotgun that was effectively lying on the floor ten feet away from him. "You gotta understand, we didn't know it'd get this complicated…I mean, the boy was hurt real bad. Asked us not to bring him to a hospital. Didn't think it meant no doctors though. And the boy passed out 'fore we could ask him who to call for help,"

"That's me," whispered Max, suddenly feeling a little lost and scared. What if she was too late? She rubbed her forehead briefly, massaging away he headache that was starting to pound incessantly in her head. She couldn't even begin to formulate what it would be like without Alec…

She would kill him once she found him, dammit!

"I talked to you on the phone," she said to Janine, hoping to build rapport, hoping to make the woman trust her with more information. "Now, tell me what happened to Alec, tell me…everything that you know."

"Nuthin' much, 'cept that Doc brought in another one of his doctor friends to look at the boy. Everyone was all blown over by how fast the boy was healin' hisself. It was damn near close to a miracle, it was," explained Irving.

"And then?" Max prodded. She was finally seeing how things would've looked to this Doc Johnson. The kind of healing transgenics were capable of…was just unheard of outside of Manticore's little circle of pet labcoats.

"This new Doc, his name's Cruz, he drugged the boy up. A few hours later, he announced that he was taking him to a special facility, somewhere they could treat his 'special condition'….next thing we knew, we was being pushed around in our own home, and they'd taken the boy out. No explanations or nuthin'. We couldn't _do_ nuthin'!"

Max closed her eyes. This was a nightmare. A special facility? Special condition? What the hell was that? "Where can I find Doc Johnson?" He was their only lead at the moment. Alec's only hope.

"You can't. He's dead." whispered Janine.

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Max, Chase, and Biggs stared up the tall building that said Rivergrove General Hospital. Max looked at the two men next to her and smiled slightly, and then with a quick nod, they started walking inside. She was glad they were here with her.

Chase especially, since he had been the one to force Max to remain calm and think things through logically. All she wanted to do was blaze through town looking for Alec. But he had reminded her that whoever they were up against meant business. They had to learn more about their enemy. Otherwise, their chances of saving Alec would be down to zero.

That had an instantly sobering effect on Max. She had gone quiet and withdrawn into herself. Chase had never seen her look so worried or vulnerable before.

"Alec's a survivor, Max," he'd reassured her. "We'll find him."

She'd looked up at him with big brown eyes, fighting back tears. "I know." she said, her voice only wavering slightly. "I just…what if…" her voice had broken and she had shaken her head and turned away.

_What if they didn't find him? Or what if they found him…too late?_

Chase had given Max five minutes to compose herself before calling on the soldier in her. They had a mission to accomplish and a comrade to save. But inside, he was warming up to her. Whatever the result of this mission, at least he found that Max wasn't the Ice Bitch he'd thought. And he suddenly realized exactly what it was that Alec saw in her.

It was obvious to him and to Biggs that Max cared about their buddy. And if things were optimistic, they'd gladly let Max beat the crap out of Alec. It was a sign of her…affections, they'd figured.

So here they were, looking for clues. They'd called Eyes Only and TC, and things were on standby as they gathered more information.

Max took a deep breath and willed herself to be calm. She picked the lock to Doctor H. Johnson's office carefully. Biggs was down the hall from her, keeping a lookout as a janitor. Chase was at the nurse's station, being the distraction—flirting outrageously with them.

She slipped into the office quietly and began to rifle through the papers on his desk. According to Janine, Doc Johnson had been found dead in his home from cardiac arrest early this morning. Max twisted her lips bitterly. She wasn't inclined to think so. Things were just too…coincidental.

It was lucky that it wasn't even noon yet. They had to work quickly, before whoever had ordered for the good doc to be eliminated came around to take his notes as well. She opened several drawers and slammed them shut, finding nothing of relevance in them.

Suddenly, a name caught her eye. "Cruz," she whispered. She pulled out the business card from his rolodex. "Geneticist. Cyadine Industries. Great, just great." She muttered, her brain automatically calculating how much higher the risks had gone up…and how much lower Alec's chances of survival became. She shook her head briefly, keeping her emotions locked away, keeping her mind on the game.

There was a notepad next to the phone. Max picked it up and flipped through it quickly. They were mostly just notes about patients and probably their phone messages. But then, she paused.

"Irving's kid…bloodwork sent to…"

But before she could finish reading the rest of his notes, the door was flung open and her breath caught in her throat. _Shit!_

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**A/N2: I really thought I'd have Max and Alec together, but I guess that's not what my muse wanted. Hope you guys are still interested in knowing how things turn out**


	5. Chapter 5: High and Dry

DISCLAIMER: Dark Angel isn't mine. Belongs to some random guy named James Cameron. Fancy that. Sounds just like the guy who made Titanic.

A/N: Thanks for waiting ever-so-patiently. I needed another break from _A Darker Angel_, so here's the break. Hope you guys are still hanging around.

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Alec awoke to a massive headache, and the curious feeling of being carried off somewhere. He was on a litter bed, he figured, as he swayed slightly from side-to-side. He remembered the feeling of lying in one after a mission in Ljubljana, in Slovenia, had gone awry and he'd been blown to unconsciousness. He remembered waking up just as he was being rushed quickly back to Camp in one of these litters.

Now, however, he had enough presence of mind not to open his eyes, or give any other indication that he was awake. He kept his breathing even, his muscles seemingly relaxed. But he listened intently. From the sound of things, there were more than six people crunching about on some kind of gravely dirt surface. Some took heavier footsteps and were slower, as if staggering under some weight.

Either there were some fat bastards around, or they were carrying other people like him.

For what seemed like the millionth time, Alec wondered what the hell he had gotten himself into.

Still keeping the pretense of being unconscious, Alec noted that the air smelled sort of salty. As if they were near the sea. _Uh-oh, something tells me I ain't in Kansas no more, _he thought grimly. The sea was approximately fifty miles from the last time he had managed to assess his location. And that was somewhere on the road before his accident with Irving.

Keeping his growing concern at bay, Alec listened as the footsteps changed into something more solid, as if they were now stepping on a hard, smooth, maybe cemented surface. The echoes indicated that they were inside someplace with high ceilings and lots of empty space.

He felt himself being lowered onto a bunk bed. Surprisingly, the hands that lifted him slightly from side to side so they could slide the litter from under him, were gentle and precise. Like doctors' hands.

He felt fear momentarily spike through him as he felt hands grab his arms and legs firmly and wrap shackles around them, leaving only his broken leg free. It took a lot of his willpower and discipline, but he kept perfectly still as the shackles snapped shut with consecutive clicks. _Shackled to a bed, body torn up, somewhere in a warehouse of sorts, near the sea. Great. A bunch of clues and facts that aren't really much of a help at all._ He knew without a doubt, that he was screwed.

Max didn't even need to kill him now. He was dead meat already.

He laid there and listened, still pretending to be fast asleep. He heard something like another body being slumped into an empty bed to his left, about two feet away from him. He kept himself from showing any kind of expression on his face that might blow his cover away. But his curiosity had been piqued.

And then he heard another one being laid onto another bed. _What the hell?_

He heard several shackles being snapped shut.

"Put that one down…over there," said a brisk, cool tone of a woman. And Alec heard a very light thump as another body—a small one—was dumped onto the bed on his immediate right. "Where are her belongings?"

"In the van," replied a dull, heavy voice. "I'll go get it when I bring the other one in."

_Another one?_

"Fine. Go now. I'll chain this one up." The woman again. Alec heard the lumbering footsteps of the man leave the room. He vaguely heard the distinct crunch of the dirt under his feet as he went outside. Then, he heard several metallic clinks of the shackles snapping shut as the woman locked the other body down.

"Well, that's it for this batch." Alec heard her straighten up, and he could almost imagine this woman placing her hands on her hips and looking around at their collection of bodies. Alec wasn't even sure if everyone around him was dead or alive. "We're gonna have quite a profit."

"Oh, joy." Came a flat, almost disdainful voice. It startled Alec because he hadn't even detected this other guy's presence. He was usually so good at these things.

Then he heard the quiet pad of footsteps approaching his bed. "This one," said the cold voice, almost directly over him. "This one is special."

He heard the woman walk closer to him. It was getting harder keeping the pretense of being asleep. Unconscious people didn't get shivers of fear down their spine. They didn't flinch when cold, calculating voices talked about them. They didn't change the rhythm of their breathing because they weren't supposed to be aware they were subject to very close scrutiny.

"He's pretty," assessed the woman. "But also roughed up quite a bit. I don't know about him."

"Have some faith..., Faith." Came the sardonic reply. "Buyers will be lining up by the hundreds for this one. I've never led us astray yet."

"True, but this better be good, Trask."

_Buyers? _

Unfortunately, the heavy footsteps of the other man interrupted the conversation, and Faith and Trask stepped aside. Alec heard a soft thump as another body was laid down onto a bed. "Okay, that's the last one. And here's the bag of that other one."

"Well, then, we'r done here. Let's lock 'em up. See you, Thursday." Trask said, and Alec found himself straining to hear his footsteps retreating. Soon, Faith and the other man left, too, and he heard heavy, metallic doors being slid shut. Then he heard the undeniable sound of a lock clicking into place.

_I'm screwed beyond all hell, _he thought resignedly.

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A dark head poked through the open door, and Max almost growled in relief.

"What the hell are you doing here, Biggs! You scared the shit outta me!" cried Max, her hands already fisted, ready for a fight. Biggs quickly slipped through Dr. Johnson's door and closed it carefully with a click. He rolled his janitorial equipment off to the side.

Biggs frowned at her. "Relax, Max, you're too wound up!" he whispered, placing a forefinger over his full lips. "You need to hurry. Chase just signaled that one of the nurses got a phone call about keeping Dr. Johnson's office off-limits. Authorities are comin' over. Chase is havin' a hell of a time keeping the nurses busy."

Max nodded briskly. "Right, well I found this." She flashed him Cruz's card.

"That's it?"

She rolled her eyes at him, and pulled out the notepad that she was about to take just before he came into the office. "These are the doc's notes on Alec. I don't know if there are any more leads. How much time do we have?"

Biggs glanced at her sideways. "Forty-five seconds left," he whispered briskly, pulling out a drawer from a file cabinet.

"He only gave us a _minute_?" she asked irritated, as she took a handful of calling cards from the rolodex and shoved them into her jacket pockets.

Biggs was taking folders by the handful and putting them into his empty, yellow janitorial bucket. "Give him a break, Max," he said in a low, amused whisper. "It's not like he's the most charming guy around. He's not Alec."

"Oh please, don't remind me," she retorted, knowing that Alec would probably be able to keep those nurses…_entertained _for a good couple of hours. Picking up the phone, she quickly pressed the speed dial. Listening to the little beeps and tones, she wrote down the number on a pad. Who knew that this random skill she had used to scam so many people out of their money was now gonna be so useful?

She pressed #2, and did the same. She quickly went down the list of speed dial numbers until the last one at twelve. It'd be good to know who was important enough to Dr. Johnson to be on his speed dial.

Like Alec had put her on his.

She sighed heavily at the thought. They were running out of time. _Alec_ was running out of time, and she still had no idea where he might be. Before she hung up, she pressed re-dial on impulse. It could be useful to know who the last person the good old doctor might have called. She wrote down the numbers that beeped onto her pad as well.

However, before she could replace the receiver back on the cradle, someone from the other line picked up the phone. "The Black Dahlia, what's your pleasure this evening?"

Max blinked in surprise, and saw Biggs flash her a half-open fist: thirty seconds left.

"Do you guys deliver?" she asked in a high-pitched, sweetly, innocent tone.

There was a low, throaty chuckle on the other end. "Well, honey, depends on what you would like us to deliver. We cater to all…tastes."

"How 'bout some Chinese? Chicken chow mein sounds good just about now."

Biggs started counting down from ten on his finger. Indicating that with five seconds left, they were leaving. She nodded briskly and tore away the paper with all the phone numbers from the pad.

"Sweetheart, you've got the wrong kind of delivery."

"Oh, sorry." She said, and quickly dropped the receiver back onto the cradle. In a second, she and Biggs slipped out the door, locking it quickly behind them.

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Alec sighed as the most boring day of his life ticked by, minute by boring minute. He was strapped to a bed with nothing to do, in a warehouse full of a bunch of unconscious, probably heavily-sedated people. Luckily, he had determined by listening to the different rhythms of their breathing that no one was dead.

Listening to people's breathing. Yep, he was bored.

There was no one to talk to. Nothing to see except grey walls and a long row of narrow beds filled with sleeping people. Nowhere to go since he couldn't even muster up enough strength to break his shackles. Just a whole lot of…contemplating the very probable end of his not-so-illustrious life.

He kept replaying all the parts that he could remember. But they really weren't much. The last thing he recalled was Cruz's ugly smile as he fell into a barbiturate-induced sleep. Hell, the doc had overdosed him and had almost caused him to slip into a coma.

Needless to say, he had no concept of what day of the week it was, or in fact, how many days had passed since his accident. Although he could tell from his injuries that not enough days had passed for him to heal reasonably well, yet.

The guy, Trask, had said something about Thursday. He knew that he had been in the accident on a Monday. So, he had to be somewhere in between Monday and Thursday. Which means, Max should know by now that he was 'missing'. Right?

He sighed heavily. It wasn't like he'd never been gone for long periods of time without checking in with her. She probably just thought he was out and about, doing his thing and screwing up. Much to his chagrin, she was actually right this time.

And it wasn't very likely that she'd send out a search party for him, either. Terminal City resources were already stretched a little too thin for anyone to be sent out on a wild-goose-chase when, for all anyone knew, he could just be out having some fun.

_Great, Alec. Great way to go, buddy,_ he thought sarcastically to himself. He felt like he'd been left high and dry, except that he had no one to blame but himself. Funny how he wasn't really scared about dying just yet. Just bored out of his mind. And when he was bored, he thought about all kinds of things that would be fun to do.

Like rile Max. Making Max mad, or making her laugh, or catching her off-guard enough to make her smile genuinely. Alec closed his eyes and finally admitted, painful as it may be, that he wished things between him and Max had been different.

Maybe if he hadn't screwed things up so much from the get-go, maybe her little lie to Logan about their 'relationship', might have been true. Might have. Then again, maybe Max just hated him on principle.

He sighed and turned his head sideways. He had gotten to know every nook and cranny of the large warehouse. He took a look around again. Seeing, if possible, anything had changed.

He was trying to twist his neck sideways and up to look out the window that was high above him, to see the sky, when he was startled by a sharp, piercing scream that came from his right.

"Sh!" he cried, as the young blond girl tried to bolt up in bed, struggling with her shackles. "Shh! Kid, it's all right!" he said in a soothing voice.

She slumped back down onto the bed, and Alec could see her small frame was shivering. She turned her head to look at him, her eyes widening as she took in the condition that he was in, complete with bloody head bandages, a broken leg, and more bandages wrapped around his body.

"What did they do to you?" she asked in a concerned whisper, her blue eyes widening. Alec could almost see the frightening thoughts that must have been running through her head at that question. She was so young, probably only thirteen or fourteen.

He grinned reassuringly at her. "Everything you see here, kid, I did to myself." He said with a wink, trying to keep her calm. "Had a bad ride on my motorcycle."

"Oh." There was a heavy pause. "So, what is this place?"

Alec cocked a brow, glad that she wasn't breaking down into hysterical tears. "Good question. I'm not sure yet. It seems to be some kind of holding place, where we're supposed to sit still and wait."

He saw her eyes glanced around the room, pausing on every other still form on a bed, before locking with his. Her fear was evident in her eyes. Alec smiled kindly at the kid. "I'm Alec," he whispered, hoping something more normal and mundane could keep her hysterics at bay.

"Angel," she replied, with a small smile that broke and turned into a tremulous pout.

"Nice name," said Alec, continuing to maintain the calm tone of the conversation.

"Not really," she said in a small voice. "I get teased a lot for it. Wish I were named something more ordinary like Jessica."

Alec grinned. "Who wants to be ordinary, anyway?"

"I do. Just about now."

Alec chuckled quietly. At least the kid had some spunk. He heard her swallow heavily, probably trying to keep her own sense of calm. Finally she squeaked, "_What are they gonna do to us?"_

Alec shrugged helplessly. "I don't know," he replied honestly. "I haven't quite figured that one out, yet."

They were both quiet for a moment, thinking about what the possibilities were. Angel shifted restlessly in her bed, and Alec wished he could move around just as freely. He still hurt like hell everywhere.

"I snuck in, y'know." She said suddenly, her voice sort of far away and sad.

"Hmm?"

"I snuck into the Black Dahlia." Angel whispered. She turned confused blue eyes towards Alec. "It was dark and fun, and kinda creepy cool. And then…I don't remember."

"What's the Black Dahlia?"

"It's a club."

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	6. Chapter 6: Buyers and Sellers

DISCLAIMER: Dark Angel does not belong to me. It's the product of Jim Cameron's creativity. I'm just borrowing a little bit of that. But I'm not making money off of it like he did.

**A/N: Well…here's Chapter 6. Hope it's okay. My muse has been on a stress vacation.**

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**CHAPTER 6**

"So, the Black Dahlia, what is that?" asked Max, tapping her pen onto her notepad incessantly. She had way too much energy, and nothing to expend it on.

Chase and Biggs were both sprawled on each of their Queen-sized beds, leaning on the headboards, faces identically scrunched in concentration. They could be out saving Alec by now, but instead, they were sitting around in their motel room trying to decipher the clues they had raked in an hour ago. It was utterly frustrating.

"Well, a dahlia is a type of flower. Very pretty. But I don't think it comes in black," said Chase, an amused smile playing on his lips. Max glared at him, knowing that he was just toying with her anxiety. "If you don't have anything useful to share, Chase, then keep your mouth shut!" she growled.

Biggs chuckled, but immediately wiped the smirk off his face when Max turned her glare at him. He raised his hands in mock surrender and put on an innocent face. Then he shrugged and looked thoughtfully at the phone. "From what I could tell when I called that number you gave me, it sounded like some kind of escort service agency," said Biggs thoughtfully. "I mean, they were talking about making my fantasies come true, blah, blah, blah, and giving me exactly what I wanted, etc, etc, etc…"

Max frowned. "Okay…"

"Well, I think we're on the right track," said Chase sarcastically, lowering himself even more on the bed, now lying completely on the mattress. "I mean, Alec could have been turned into somebody's little fantasy. He's _pretty_ enough."

"Chase!" cried Max in exasperation. Sometimes, X's were just like adolescents. Only the fact that she knew how they had all missed out on their childhood gave her enough patience to keep her cool. "What did I warn you about the shutting-up part?"

"No, no, no," said Biggs, thoughtfully. "The deadbeat might actually have hit on something,"

Max cocked her head at Biggs as realization dawned on her as well. "You think the Black Dahlia is some legal front for something illegal?"

Chase sat-up quickly, light bulbs flashing in his brain. "Human trafficking."

"But Alec…" Max couldn't even finish her thought. How did Alec become embroiled in something like this? And what could it mean about exposure?

Biggs scratched his head and looked grimly at Max. "The lady on the other line seemed real uncomfortable when I started talking about how Dr. Johnson had referred us to their services."

"Real uncomfortable, meaning she knows the good doc is dead?" asked Chase, confirming what was on everyone's minds at this point.

"I'm calling Logan," announced Max. "We're gonna need some serious info on this. Chase, Biggs, you keep looking through the stuff and combing for clues. Call those other numbers I got."

They leaned back and both whipped out their cellphones and started dialing. Max did the same and called Logan. After a couple of rings, he picked up, sounding slightly out of breath.

"Hey, it's me," she said.

_Oh, hey yourself_, 

"What're you doing?" she asked, wondering why he was using the speaker device instead of just picking up the phone.

_Working out, _

"Oh."

_Yeah. Just 'cuz I can't walk doesn't mean I let myself waste away_. 

"Right. Anyway, I need some info on something. Think you can do a favor for a friend?" she asked, cutting straight to the chase. It seemed odd, but she and Logan had never been good with the casual 'how's life' type of conversations. As far as she could remember him, they always talked shop. And now that they were just "friends" she didn't know what ground to cover in their conversations.

_Sure thing, give me a sec_. 

He sounded relieved, too. Like he knew that talking shop was safe ground for both of them. She waited patiently, hearing grunts as she imagined him hauling himself onto his wheelchair.

A few moments later, he was back on the line. "Okay, this is about Alec, I take it?" he asked conversationally as he set up his systems.

"What else am I doing?" she asked with a sigh. "Saving his ass, as always, you know that."

"Mm-hmm."

Max narrowed her eyes, wondering what the hell that little 'mm-hmm' meant. With Logan, it was sometimes hard to decipher what he meant by the little sounds he made. Sometimes, she wondered if it was just to fill what might have been awkward silences. "Yeah," she said, feeling the awkwardness she had just been thinking about. "Got some clues, but still running out of time fast."

She heard him sigh deeply over at his end of the line. "Right. So, what's up?"

"The Black Dahlia," she said briskly, glad to be back on safe conversational territory. "Sounds like some kind of club up in these parts. Can you look it up for me?"

"Hmm. I recognize the name," he murmured. She could hear the rapid clicks as he typed away on his computers, searching his vast source networks for any hits. "Okay, got it."

"Well, looks like it _is _a club. Very exclusive. In fact, I only have a page of solid information on it. Mostly the legal stuff. It's got business licenses for services and entertainment. Superficial stuff, really."

Max frowned in frustration. "That's it?" She couldn't keep the impatience out of her voice either. "And what do you mean you recognize it?"

"Well, I've heard _of _it. It's very underground. Very exclusive. It's so underground that the only people who seem to know about it are the patrons…and well, those who stumble into it," explained Logan.

"Then…how come you know about it?" she demanded.

"Rumors. Lots and lots of rumors about the Black Dahlia. See, I keep records of any goings-on that are a little shady. I keep them in files, until I can get something more solid out of it. And the Black Dahlia has a hefty file of rumors and speculation."

"Well…what does your file say?" she demanded.

"It's a nightclub. High-powered criminals tend to be sighted at the place…and it's very secretive. Sort of like a 'what happens in the Black Dahlia…never happened at all' kind of deal," said Logan, reading through his files.

"High-powered criminals? In _Oregon_?" she asked incredulously.

"Exactly. Who would suspect?"

Max grunted a nonsensical reply. "So…what do these shady criminals do in there? Sip on champagne and talk about how many people they've killed in the past week?" she drawled sarcastically.

"Wheeling and dealing. Buying and selling," replied Logan, used to her sarcasm and equally adept at ignoring it. "And there's always disappearances related to the club. But of course, they're never investigated. Just sort of lost in the shuffle of bureaucratic papers as money changes hands. Now, mind you, these are just rumors, but it seems to be a hot spot for human trafficking: slaves, prostitutes, organs and other body parts, even, uh…eccentricities."

"Eccentricities?"

"Uh…mutants. There's a file here that talks about buying and selling of 'circus-type' people. Some are files of kidnapped children who were thought to be geniuses, or had special gifts. Things of the like. Out of the ordinary…"

"…like Alec," she finished, as cold seeped into her core. This wasn't a small-time deal. They were up against a very well-run and powerful organization. "This is not good, Logan. We need to get him out of there. How do I get in?"

"Wait, wait, wait…hold on just one second, Max," cautioned Logan. "How can you even be sure that Alec is all caught up with the Black Dahlia?"

Well, the truth was, she wasn't so much as sure, as her gut and intuition were telling her that this was where Alec was. "Well…"

"Got him!" called Biggs, snapping his phone shut. Max and Chase turned towards the dark-haired X5 who was grinning widely from ear to ear. Biggs rubbed the stubble that was forming on his jaw and smirked, "I just got us an invitation to see something special."

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"What!" cried Max indignantly, crossing her arms in front of her.

Biggs and Chase were bearing down on her. Biggs was wearing a wide, amused grin. Chase just looked hopeful as he handed her a very tight, black leather bodice. "It's the only way to get in."

Max eyed the bodysuit. It was nothing more than a corset and some very tight leather pants. She probably wouldn't be able to move in it. Then her eyes traveled towards the bed where Biggs had laid out her "accessories."

A dog collar with silver spikes. Wrist bands with matching spikes. Black lipstick. Too much make-up. Handcuffs.

"Tell me again, _why_ I have to be dressed like _that_?" she asked, her eyes flashing in hostility.

Chase sighed in mock exasperation. "Because Biggs got an invite, just as he and Logan planned, posing as Jonas Cale's nephew. But since you _insisted_ on joining him, the only way you go in is by being his…"

"…pet." Smiled Biggs.

For two guys who were supposed to be saving their best bud, they were too cheerful. Max narrowed her eyes at them. "Aren't you guys even worried about Alec?"

Biggs shrugged his broad, pin-stripe suit covered shoulders, "We're the ones going along with the plan," he reminded her.

"And I'm not insisting I go into the club, too. I'm perfectly content being back-up and doing recon on the outside," added Chase.

Max clenched her fists at her side, holding in the temper tantrum that was very close to erupting. She growled slightly and swiped the leather outfit from Chase's outstretched arm. Then she stalked towards the bathroom.

"By the way, Max," called Biggs. She paused but didn't turn around to look at him. "You need to change the way you walk."

She spun around and glared at him. "What do you mean the way I walk?" she demanded.

Chase shrugged and nudged Biggs on the shoulder to continue. "Well, it's just that you walk like you're…angrily barging through life," he explained. "And in our _special_ relationship for tonight…you're submissive to me."

She narrowed her eyes at him, her lips compressing into a tight white line. "Fine!" she hissed, and then turned around and walked into the bathroom. She slammed the door closed behind her so hard, it almost came off its hinges.

Biggs and Chase took a moment to share amused smiles. Alec was gonna love them once they told him all about this little adventure. But, those smiles quickly melted away as they finished preparing themselves for tonight's charade.

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"It's the coolest club in five counties," explained Angel, lying flat on her back, her eyes on the pipes on the ceilings.

Alec smirked. "Yeah, I got that. I mean, you ran away from home to get into this club and all."

"I didn't just run away," she whispered. "I was invited. They said I was _chosen_." Her voice started to waver, and Alec sighed heavily.

They'd been talking for several hours now. Mostly about the club, what it was like, the kinds of people, the music, how absolutely cool and hip it was. Frankly, Alec just wanted to burn the thing down. It was becoming increasingly clear to him that it was a front for some kind of underground human trafficking. Maybe a slave trade. Maybe prostitution. Maybe organ harvesting. Who knew what else.

"We're in trouble, aren't we?" she asked in a small voice.

Alec didn't have the heart to lie to her, so he sighed heavily and shifted on his little cot. "Yeah, we are."

"It's been approximately seven hours and forty-one minutes since I was drugged. It should have been around the same time as those other girls," she mused.

Alec turned to look at the other beds. Everyone else was still breathing deeply in slumber. "So, how come you're awake?" he asked suspiciously.

Angel shrugged. "Well…uh...I don't know,"

Alec eyed her slight form. She was tiny. Maybe they had given her a smaller dose. Or maybe her body chemistry was resistant to the drug. Or maybe it was…Alec rolled his eyes. It could be any number of things that had a perfectly good explanation. A sudden realization hit him, and his mouth made a small 'o' to himself. She could be a _transgenic_. "Hey, kid, got any tattoos?" he asked casually.

"Huh?"

"Tattoos? Or any other special markings?" he asked.

She eyed him strangely and shook her head. "No."

He was about to trick her into looking the other way so he could try to catch a glimpse of her nape, when he picked up the sounds of an incoming vehicle. He bit his lip and considered his options: staying awake or pretending to be asleep.

"Someone's coming," Angel whispered a minute later. Alec narrowed his eyes in suspicion. How could she have known, unless she had heard the truck rolling over the gravel? But he knew they were still pretty far. Not close enough to hear without transgenic hearing.

"How do you know?" he asked, playing dumb.

She threw him an indecipherable look. "I just do."

Then she shut her eyes, and started breathing evenly. Just as if she were asleep. Alec watched her performance for a full minute, and was impressed. She was good. He pursed his lips as he filed this away in his mind for further contemplation later on.

For now, he had other things to deal with.

The truck was now rolling to a stop. Alec listened intently as he heard footsteps crunching over the dirt, then the large warehouse doors slid open, sending in weak light rays of the sunset. There were two heavyset men. They came in carrying duffel bags. One of them had a med kit. Then a woman walked in, wearing a crisp pantsuit.

Alec watched her warily, his eyes narrowed, a smile hardening on his face. "Fancy accommodations you got here," he drawled. "I'm real comfy."

Her eyes widened slightly in surprise, but that was all the reaction she gave. She smiled maliciously down at him. "Well, well, well, finally you're awake, 494. I was getting…impatient."

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**A/N2: Hang in there folks. It'll be over soon. I hope. I really do. **


	7. Chapter 7: Hot and Bothered

**DISCLAIMER: Dark Angel doesn't belong to me. **

**A/N: Hi. Thanks for waiting around for this next chapter. It's moving along, and I think I've finally figured out how to end this story. It's not the end, yet, though. But pretty close. This is a bit longer than the other chapters, but I hope it moved the story along pretty well. Biggs gets a bigger role here. Always wanted to put a small spotlight on him. Now, on to the story…**

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**CHAPTER SEVEN**

"735, it's…shocking…to see you again," drawled Alec, a sneer twisting his lips. "What have you tangled yourself with this time?"

X5-735 cocked a shapely dark brow at him. She was beautiful, like all X5's were. She had peachy skin with a yellowish tint that reflected the Asian heritage of her genetics. She was tall and lean, and her long, black hair was pulled in a tight bun. She stood rod straight, her chin raised, even while she was looking down at him on his bunk. She always knew how to carry herself like the supersoldier that she was.

She narrowed her almond-shaped brown eyes at him, her lips pursed in annoyance. "The question is, 494, what kind of mess have you got yourself into now? I can see that you haven't changed at all. Still a reckless screw-up."

"And you're still a cold bitch for sale to the highest bidder?" he taunted right back.

She smiled slightly, not taking offense. "At least I'm not the one in shackles and chains," she replied disdainfully.

Alec sighed. She had a point there. He decided to change the subject quickly, before she could push her advantage on that point. "What's going on here, 735? Got a little side job in human trafficking?"

Her smile widened and she cocked her head in slight acknowledgment of his correct assumption. "I was always good with Search and Seizure."

"Seizure? More like Search and Destroy, isn't it, 735? You always ended up _accidentally_ eliminating your marks well before Command had given you the orders, or even wanted you to," he remarked casually. "Was it your temper? Or your natural mean streak?"

She twisted her lips in an ugly grimace as she sought to control her temper. 735 had been known for her "shoot first, ask questions later" method at Manticore. She was temperamental, hard to control, and often had to be subdued. But she was also efficient and got the job done, especially when a job required a certain level of ruthlessness.

Alec decided to keep pushing her buttons. "Who are you working for? You're not capable of doing all this yourself. As I remember, you were never much of a leader," he taunted.

She raised her chin up indignantly, her pale skin turning even paler. She turned around to ignore Alec and snapped at the men who had come in with her. "You two, have him prepped and ready for transport in ten! I'll be in the car." And without another glance at him, she stalked out of the warehouse.

Alec glanced apprehensively at the two burly men who came forward to take him. He knew that panicking wouldn't get him anywhere, so he forced himself to remain calm, his mind racing. Where were they taking him? Who were they? What was 735 tangled in? Who was she working for? What the _hell_ was going on?

He glared at the two men ineffectually, just before one of them wrapped a dark cloth over his eyes, sending him into darkness. He smirked. A blindfold wouldn't exactly be effective against a well-trained transgenic. He could memorize twists and turns, the texture of the road surfaces, the surrounding sounds, and even calculate the distance traveled.

But as soon as that thought crossed his mind, he felt the prick of a needle on his arm. _Oh shit, _he thought in annoyance. He really shouldn't have underestimated 735. Within moments, he was fading back into blackness.

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Max was royally pissed. It wasn't about the way she was dressed. In fact, now that the whole outfit was put together, she didn't look half-bad. She looked pretty damned hot, actually. In a really dark way. Which was just fine with her.

No, it was the way she had to act. It was against her nature to be so submissive to the point where she was almost cowering around Biggs. The idea was ludicrous. But it had to be done.

For Alec.

This was definitely going on the list of reasons to kick his ass more.

Max stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her dark eyes looked even darker, ringed with heavy black eyeliner and black mascara. Her lips were ruby red, fuller and poutier than usual. But there was something distraught in her face. Maybe it was the worry line between her brows, the dimness in her eyes, and the downward tilt of her mouth.

It was all Alec's fault. He better damn well be _alive_ so that she could kick his ass. Suddenly, a sheen of tears covered her eyes, and she fought to keep them from falling down her face.

For the first time in the last fifty-six hours since she got his page, she acknowledged how shaken she really was. Even as a child, Manticore had taught them to box away their emotions, thoughts, and opinions about their missions. For the most part, Max had no problems doing that, especially when most of the time, she found herself burgling, or kicking ass.

But this…mission, this mission mattered. Because for some inexplicable reason, Alec mattered to her. He was a part of her life now. A friend, someone she had subconsciously leaned on for support for so long, and so gradually, that she never noticed she was doing it…until he wasn't there.

She took a deep breath and blinked away the tears. She knew one thing for sure: if she lost Alec, her whole world would never be the same again. And with the way things were going, she couldn't afford to lose him.

"I'm ready," she whispered to herself.

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Biggs allowed himself to be led into a dark, beautifully appointed, corner office inside the Black Dahlia. He hadn't known what to expect, but he wasn't a rookie. Whatever came his way, he could go with the flow. He was one of the few, including Alec, who had passed the extremely rigorous training for espionage and assassinations. Infiltrating the enemy's defenses through social means had simply been one lesson of the hundreds.

He smiled briefly at the woman lounging on a soft, black velvet divan. It was long, and wide, almost like a bed. The woman was half in shadow, but that didn't stop Biggs from being able to see her clearly.

She was beautiful, but in a severely polished kind of way. She had hair so blond, it shone like platinum. Her round eyes were the color of ice, blue and glittering. She had lips perfectly outlined in blood red, and a body that was shown to perfection in a white silk gown, with a neckline that dipped almost to her stomach. It was loose and flowy, but clung expertly to her curves. However, Biggs could tell that without the perfect hairstyle, the professional make-up, and the fantastic clothes, she would not have been half as striking. She was a woman who knew how to use what she had to the best advantage.

"Caleb Cale," she fairly purred.

Biggs cocked his head lightly in a small, acquiescent bow. "Faith," he murmured quietly, with enough deference not to arouse any suspicions. After all, this woman was obviously important.

She pushed herself up to a sitting position and offered him her hand. He took it gently in his, and lowered a kiss on her knuckles. "What a pleasure you are," he whispered caressingly against her hand.

She laughed throatily. "You're slick, kid."

"Well, part of my wealth does come from an oil refining empire," he replied teasingly. Biggs allowed his eyes to glance over Faith appreciatively, making sure she noticed what he was doing.

"Mmm…the Cales…" she nodded approvingly. "Filthy rich. A finger in everything."

"Of course." He continued to devour her with his eyes.

Biggs watched as Faith preened slightly under his interested gaze. He may not have been as good as Alec in insinuating himself into all sorts of situations, but seduction had been one of the few things he had occasionally beaten Alec in class.

"What brings you here, Mr. Cale?" she said softly, in a breathless whisper. "Business? Or pleasure?"

Biggs smiled suggestively at her. "Caleb, please," her replied, allowing his voice to rumble in a much deeper tone than usual. "And I always make a point to mix business with pleasure."

She chuckled appreciatively. "Aaah, a man after my own heart." Then, with a flick of her wrist, a servant came forward and leaned towards her so she could murmur into his ear. Biggs heard her clearly enough. Within moments, the servant swiftly left the room with his orders.

Faith gestured towards Biggs, and patted the empty space next to hers. "Sit with me, Caleb. While we await my associates, let us be entertained."

Biggs stifled the urge to grit his teeth. He really didn't want any sort of physical contact with Faith. She may be beautiful, but flirting was as far as he wanted to go with her. On the other hand, Biggs had never had any illusions between what he wanted to do and what had to be done.

So, he smiled coyly at her and easily lowered himself onto the divan, stretching his long body next to hers in a deceptively relaxed position. "Entertainment?" he queried, his brow cocked.

As soon as the words left his lips, three scantily clad women came into the room. They looked at Biggs appreciatively, but he noticed that it was forced. He knew it wasn't necessarily because of him. He didn't doubt his good-looks in general; he had been made to be attractive. A quick, but thorough assessment of each girl told him everything he needed to know. He could tell that the glances these girls threw at him were practiced and their seductive postures were not natural, but rather rehearsed. They were slaves.

He wore a bored expression on his face and glanced at Faith. "You know, I'm not quite impressed," he drawled haughtily.

Faith raised both brows at him in surprise, but he could tell that she was willing to listen. He was using her own vanity against her. She was curious.

He pulled out a cellphone from his coat pocket, and flipped it open. "I have someone else in the car, waiting for me. A personal…assistant of sorts," he explained. "Do you mind if I bring her in?"

Faith seemed to struggle briefly with herself, but finally, her curiosity got the better of her. "We don't normally allow…other…distractions into the establishment," she started.

Biggs wiggled his brows charmingly at her. "Aaah, but trust me, Faith. You, and your associates will not be disappointed. And I can be quite _generous_ with my _diversions._"

She smiled cattily at him. "Very well, Cale, bring her in. I'd like to look at her myself."

With that, Biggs pressed a few numbers into his phone. "Yes, send her in. I'll be waiting."

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_Finally! _fumed Max, as she got out of the limousine that was parked on the private lot across the street from the establishment. She gave Chase the signal, and he, too, exited the car, posing as the chauffer.

Max started across the parking lot, her strides eating up the ground. As soon as she was in view of the Black Dahlia, she slowed her steps, remembering to walk with a slink. Her feline DNA made it easy for her to walk with the slow grace of a cat. One foot in front of the other, her muscles rolling smoothly, following each step, the sway of her hips almost a slow, rhythmic rocking motion.

She kept her head tilted low, looking up through her lashes seductively. As she approached the door, she unzipped the leather jacket she wore, slowly, purposefully. She knew that there were eyes watching everywhere. While waiting for Biggs' signal, she and Chase had marked where these "spies", "guards", and cameras were posted.

There was a 'homeless man' on the street that kept too keen of a gaze on the entrance. Another one was a man who appeared to be looking out of his apartment window with a telescope, presumably to look at the stars. Unfortunately, Max and Chase had spotted the mirrors that allowed his telescope to point up, but see everything below instead. Then there were the supposed traffic cameras in the area; ones whose lenses were trained on the walkways around the club entrance instead of on the actual roads. There were more, and Max put on a show for every single one of the observers.

She may not have had Manticore training in this, but she wasn't stupid. She knew what was at stake and what was required of her. Max had never been one for half-measures anyway. So, she threw herself into the role, even when she would have been happier ripping Biggs's head off his shoulders.

She posed, shoulders thrown back, breasts thrust forward, hands on her hips, right in front of the non-descript door with a window inset. It looked like the entrance to an apartment building, not a swank club where the Who's Who of the Rich and Infamous gathered.

Almost immediately, the cover of the inset window slid open, and Max saw a pair of dark eyes peering at her. She had the feeling that she was being inspected, evaluated. With an almost droll look, she raised her neck, showing not only the spiked collar she wore, but the small tattoo on her collarbone:PROPERTY OF C. CALE.

She could see deep pulsing lights playing in the background through the small square window. There were dark blues, purples, a flash of blinding white, followed by deep reds. It also appeared to be quite smoky inside.

Max contained her expression, despite the desire to kick the door open impatiently. Finally, the door was pushed open. "Welcome to the Black Dahlia. They are expecting you," said the doorman. "Follow Vick."

Max lowered her head again, still seductive, but submissive as well. Her eyes glanced around as she wound her way through the club. The place looked like hell. Not in the sense that it was in shambles. Far from it actually. Everything seemed to be clean, expensive, and carefully monitored. She meant that the place literally looked like what she imagined Hell would be.

It was dark, the lights playing over the place made it seem like it was made of fire and shadows. The smoke, though thick, was strangely not clogging her senses, just dissolving weightlessly into the air. _Good ventilation_, she thought appreciatively. There were several different alcoves that led away from the main room. She could hear the sounds of whips hitting flesh, cries of pain, the clangs of chains.

She almost rolled her eyes. Further investigation into the Black Dahlia had told them that it was also a club that catered to BDSM tendencies. Here she was running away from the bondage and discipline, the domination of Manticore, and their sadistic tendencies…and all the while, others sought it out.

_Well, whatever rotates their cogs_, she thought with an internal shrug. It wasn't any of her business. So far, she hadn't yet seen anything that Eyes Only could bust the club for. Everything seemed perfectly within their legal limits. Although, consent was necessary for both parties in such a…_relationship_ to be legal, and Max wasn't so sure everyone in the establishment was consenting.

Finally, Vick knocked briefly on one of the doors before opening it. Max stepped in, her head bowed, just as Biggs sat up, a smile of pleasure lighting his face. "Aaah, everyone, this is what I call _Quality_."

He extended his hand to her, and Max looked at it in confusion for a millisecond before understanding hit her. He was dead meat, as far as she was concerned. She slunk over to him, passing two leering gentlemen, then knelt in front of him, kissing each one of his fingers. "Master Caleb," she murmured in a soft, submissive voice it had taken her almost an hour of practice to get the intonation right.

Biggs reached for her chin, and tilted her face up to the light so that the other men in the room could ogle her. "See, gentlemen, I promised you wouldn't be disappointed," he said proudly.

The woman next to Biggs leaned forward and caressed Max's cheek with perfectly lacquered fingernails. "She is exquisite, Caleb," she murmured, looking at Max with diamond eyes. "Where did you find her?"

Biggs chuckled, "Aaah, but that I cannot tell you, Faith." He chided her. "You know how this business works."

She smiled at him, then leaned back into the divan, throwing her face into shadows. "Too bad everyone is here and the meeting must start," she said pettily.

"Darling, what did I say about business and pleasure?" he drawled. "Kitty here will dance for us, while we conduct our business,"

_Dance!?!?!_ Max fought the urge to clench her fists. This was not part of the plan! Unfortunately, the two other men were already looking expectantly at her, not to mention Faith's hard glare. Biggs was lucky that she understood the reason why. It was the only way she could stay in the room and eavesdrop on their conversation. But why in the world couldn't he just have said that she could sit down really prettily? Why dance? With a small, shy smile, she looked at Biggs, "Of course, Master,"

"This is a private meeting, Cale," said Faith.

"Don't worry yourself and wrinkle that pretty face, Faith," assured Biggs, assuming control by dropping a tiny insult. "Kitty only listens when I tell her to do something for me. She is very well trained. Much like a pet."

_Biggs equals dead meat_.

Those words paraded through Max's mind at his flamboyant statement. But she dutifully got up and started to sway her body to the dark, somewhat dissonant music. Again, her feline DNA was coming to her rescue, as she started to undulate seductively around the room.

She threw her hair back, arching her neck and shoulders, her body perfectly outline in the revealing outfit. Biggs' mouth went dry. No wonder Alec was so hot for Max. He shook his head, to get back in the game, thankful that everyone—even Faith—seemed transfixed with the grace and seduction of Max's movements.

He cleared his throat loudly, and everyone snapped back to business. "Let's get started with the acquisition of my newest pet, shall we?"

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Alec was jolted to awareness unpleasantly. The transition from the drug-induced oblivion to another drug-induced wakefulness was almost painful. It must have been something that mimicked the effects of adrenaline. His heart was pumping rapidly, almost painfully, which made breathing even more painful (not to mention his cracked ribs adding to the discomfort).

"Rise and shine, 494," came the sickly sweet voice of his captor.

He smiled rakishly at her, "Oh hell, it's just you," he rasped. "Thought I was looking at witch for a second there."

735 smiled tightly down at him. She reached up and ran her hands through Alec's hair. He forced himself not to flinch. He had never been one to run away from a woman's touch before, but 735 wasn't just any woman. She was twisted and mean.

As if hearing his thoughts and to prove he was correct, she twisted her fingers in his hair ruthlessly and yanked his head back. Alec didn't make a sound, but glared at her instead. He saw that she had another syringe in one hand.

Before he could do anything, she stuck the needle on the side of his neck. The pain caused Alec to flinch and grit his teeth. She quickly released him and pulled the needle out with just as much ruthlessness. "Don't worry, 494, the pain will be gone soon. That was morphine."

He looked skeptically at her, and she smiled down cruelly. "If it were up to me, I would have killed you on the spot," she said conversationally. She gestured to his damaged state with a careless wave of her hand. "It would have been so easy to just finish the job that you've already obviously started."

"So why give me morphine?"

"Because you're worth quite a lot alive. And I need you to look…_alive_ to meet your new buyers."

Alec smirked, but his mind was racing. So he'd been sold. Things were just getting worse and worse. Who knew if he was going to be studied in a lab like a rat by this buyer. Or turned into some sort of sex slave (which he told himself was _very_ likely given his looks). And while he liked sex, he wasn't one to be forced to have it. Just look at the result of being Max's Breeding Partner.

He licked his lips disdainfully at her. "I hope your asking price was high, 735, or my feelings would be hurt," he said casually. "I happen to value myself pretty highly."

She snorted. "You would, 494. Always were too arrogant for your own good."

"What can I say, I'm the whole package,"

"That's what I'm counting on."

Alec leaned back into his pillows, already feeling the effects of the morphine. He felt numb, but blessedly painless. A first in what seemed like years, although it couldn't have been more than two days—three, tops—since his bike accident.

"Since I'm gonna be out of your tightly bunned hair, 735, tell me, who's purchased my pretty ass?"

She shrugged, and considered it for a moment. Finally, she consented, probably figuring that it couldn't hurt to let him know. "Caleb Cale."

Alec's brow shot-up at the name _Cale_. Unfortunately, 735 noticed. "You recognized the name." she remarked suspiciously. "How?"

He knew that he had to diffuse her suspicions. If it had anything to do with Logan, then maybe his buyer had something to do with Max. Maybe Max was trying to rescue him! But putting 735 on alert would just mean endangering Max. She probably had no idea that another transgenic was behind the whole thing.

"Cale. I recognize the name," he replied. "Big corporation. Bastards."

735 continued to watch his face carefully, but they both knew that Alec wasn't likely to give away anything else that he didn't want her to know. "Fine. Have it your way, 494," she murmured dangerously. "Have it your way. We'll see."

Then she walked away, whipping her cellphone out, and moving well away from Alec's earshot. She dialed a few numbers, and Alec was dismayed to find out that she had muted the keytones so he couldn't hear the numbers she had dialed. She also spoke in a low murmur, so that he could only hear a slight buzz. Dammit, she was transgenic, too, so she knew his limits exactly.

She raised her voice just enough for him to hear, "Keep a very close eye on him."

Alec sagged into his bed, dejectedly. As much as he wanted to be rescued, he actually hoped that whoever was buying him, had nothing to do with Max. If anything happened to her because of his slip-up, he didn't think he'd ever forgive himself.

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	8. Chapter 8: Beautiful and Deadly

**DISCLAIMER: I think I've said almost five hundred times by now. Dark Angel isn't mine. this piece of work is purely for my entertainment, and I'm not seeing any Benjamins for this.**

**A/N: Thanks for waiting around for forever and a day. I was having some muse/RL issues. But I figured that those things can be resolved…and well, no matter what people say, I can still write.**

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**CHAPTER 8**

_Scrruunnch! Thud!_

Max winced almost imperceptibly as the small yacht reached shore, crunching against the shallow pebbles. She noticed the tightening around Faith's lips, and she almost smiled. Whoever was piloting the boat wasn't being very careful, and the older woman wasn't very happy about that.

Biggs, who was sprawled comfortably across from her, caught her eye and leered at her. She knew that he was only playing the role of Caleb Cale, but it still took all of her willpower not to kick him somewhere very painful. She maintained her half-bowed head, batted her eyelashes at him, and licked her lips seductively. She didn't bother to hide the promise in her eyes.

She saw him swallow painfully, and took satisfaction in knowing that he knew what that "promise" really was. He was so dead.

She arched her back in a seductive, catlike stretch to ease her muscles. She was slightly stiff, hardly moving for the last three-quarters of an hour since they got on the yacht.

They were on their way to see Alec.

Or someone she hoped would be Alec. Max wasn't very clear on the details. She only knew what she needed to know to accomplish her part of the mission. She wasn't given all of the intelligence, because it might mean that she would jeopardize her part by knowing too much. Chase had his own part, too.

Max briefly closed her eyes and hoped to God he was able to follow them.

Along the way, Biggs had become the point man in this mission, and she was only too happy to pass on the bulk of the responsibility to him. She didn't want them to know that she was getting more and more anxious as each hour ticked by without Alec.

They had left The Black Dahlia to make the transaction to purchase Alec just like they planned. What they hadn't planned on was the boat, and having to travel over water. Biggs had outlined that they had two choices. One, between the three of them, they could probably take on up to twenty men. Twelve or fifteen, if they encountered enemy fire.

Or, if there were more guards than what they could reasonably handle, then they would have to come back at a later time and use stealth to their advantage.

Max sincerely hoped for the first option. They could get Alec quickly, they could expend all of this anxiety on some serious ass-kicking, and then she could proceed to beat up both Biggs and Alec for this whole situation.

The motors were shut down with a dull whirr, and they finally came to a full stop.

"Before we set foot on solid ground, let's see payment, Cale," drawled Faith.

This was smart, actually. Bringing them all the way into enemy territory with a false sense of trust and camaraderie, and just before showing the merchandise, they asked for payment. Only fools fell for them.

Good thing they were only playing parts of fools. Or at least Max hoped so.

Biggs smiled silkily at Faith, and produced the thin silver suitcase he had been cradling against his side the whole time. He laid it flat on the glass table in front of Faith. He took out a small key from an inside pocket, and with a few clicks, the suitcase was opened.

Max had to stifle a small gasp at what she saw.

There was a small computer screen inside the lid of the case. The bottom held a keyboard, and on the side were five bundles of Benjamins. Each stack must be a standard five grand. Max was glad that she didn't have to hide her surprise at this particular development. She hadn't even known of this.

"Twenty-five now, in cold, hard, beautiful cash," said Biggs, his tone completely careless, as if twenty-five thousand dollars was a mere pittance to him. He tossed the bundles onto the table offhandedly. "The other half will be wired to your account," he turned the monitor so Faith could see the numbers and the prompt for the passcode, "after I get my package."

"How do I know the money is really there?"

Biggs grinned. "You don't trust me?" he pulled an innocent face, but Faith didn't seem the type to play games where money was concerned. So, Biggs took the case, and swiftly typed in the passcode. Max saw an account statement for twenty-five thousand dollars on the screen. "This will be all yours at the end of the night, sweetheart," he said. "_IF_, I'm satisfied with your product."

"You will be," assured Faith, her eyes not leaving the screen. "This one is unique."

"I'm paying a highly unique price for him," remarked Biggs, his voice suddenly hard and unyielding. "He better be."

This time, Faith regarded him with more respect. "Let's go, then."

Max and Biggs were ushered out onto the deck. She had several questions running amok through her head right now, but knew that there was a time and place to beat the hell out of Biggs about this.

She shivered slightly in the brisk night air. She was still in her leather corset and leather pants. The only difference in her appearance was the tiny leather jacket that only covered half her back and her arms.

Max sent a quick glance at the crescent moon peaking from the heavy gray clouds. It was dark, but not so much that her extensively dilated pupils couldn't see clearly. She surreptitiously glanced around, taking note of their location, memorizing markers in case they were forced to return stealthily.

The yacht was slowly bobbing up and down next to a small dock. She noted two burly men, semi-automatics in hand, waiting for them. In addition to the three others on the yacht with them, that tallied up to five bad-guys-to-beat-up so far.

"You." ordered Faith, a long finger pointed directly at Max. "Stay." She said this like Max was some kind of pet animal.

Max opened her mouth to make an angry retort, almost forgetting her role. She almost had to swallow her tongue to stop herself. Instead, she turned large, pleading brown eyes towards Biggs, and pouted her lips at him.

Biggs smiled easily at Faith. "Kitty comes."

Faith narrowed her eyes at Biggs. "She's not necessary."

"Not to you, maybe. But for this _transaction, _I need her," he lied silkily. He stalked closer to Faith, and traced a finger seductively on the woman's bare shoulder. "I'm looking for a matched pair, if you know what I mean. I need to see if they look…_pleasant_…together."

A malicious gleam glimmered in Faith's eyes, and her scarlet lips twisted into a smile. "Of course," she purred at Biggs. Then those cold eyes shifted to Max, "You can come."

Max had to lower her head demurely so that nobody else could see her roll her eyes in exasperation. She was herded off the boat onto the small dock. She kept the vacant-eyed, passive look on her face, even though she wanted to break the noses of the men who were openly leering at her.

It wasn't much of a dock. There was a wharf, a gas pump and a rundown tool shack. She noted that there was one small powerboat covered in a slip further down the shore. Other than that, the place looked deserted. There were trees that lined the narrow shoreline, and she could barely make out a small path. Everything was quiet, except for the slap of the waves on the pebbles of the shore, and the scuffling footsteps on the wooden docks.

She followed one step behind Biggs as they made their way through the tiny path through the woods. It was becoming clearer that they were somewhere very secluded. Maybe even one of the smaller privately owned islands that dotted the harbors. Max kept her mind on remembering small details in the dark that would help them find their way back to the shore. She could hear the murmur of Biggs and Faith's voices as they continued their flirtation.

She had to hand it to Biggs. He was doing well in distracting Faith and the five men from paying too much attention to anything suspicious by regaling them with funny, witty stories, sexual innuendos, and a running commentary of every kind of plant they passed by. Max almost laughed out loud when she heard him ask if one plant was of a rare tropical species. It was a fern.

Within minutes, they came upon a large wooden frame building. It looked like one of those "summer cottages" that were actually mansions owned by the rich and powerful. This one looked like it had been severely remodeled that it had lost all its charm, and was nothing but a rectangular building with an angled roof.

They stopped at the massive double doors in the front. Max noted two more guards standing on each side.

"Pat 'em down," ordered Faith.

Biggs smiled snidely, but raised his arms towards the sides, as one of the guards started to methodically pat him down, searching for weapons. Max followed suit, but wasn't so lucky. The guard who was "handling" her, wasn't so much as patting her down as feeling her up.

She resisted sticking her elbow into his eye socket with enough force to permanently make him cock-eyed, and smiled seductively at his ugly face instead. She knew how to fake that look of interest to make a man's blood boil. If she'd stayed in Manticore, she was sure she'd have beaten everyone else at this.

She felt his meaty hands slide down her body, knowing that the skin tight material didn't hide anything that wasn't already part of her body. Too bad he didn't know that it was the body itself that was the weapon.

With a curt nod at his accomplices and at Faith, Max and Biggs were allowed into the large house.

The place was spartan; there were no furnishings in the front hall of the house. In fact, for such a pretty-looking house, it looked downright ugly inside.

There was a large, open space in the middle, with six doors on each side, presumably leading into separate rooms. There was a large wrap-around balcony from the second floor that completely overlooked the great empty hall.

Max's heart started pounding wildly. They were so close. She sniffed the air surreptitiously, and vaguely caught Alec's scent. Her eyes widened slightly, getting excited. But she forced herself to remain calm and unperturbed. Maybe she was just imagining it; her hopes falsely manifesting themselves.

She caught Biggs eye, and noticed that he was slightly agitated, too.

He had caught Alec's scent as well.

He was here.

Max's fingers itched to start a fight. Very carefully, she transferred her weight to the balls of her feet, walking less like a sex slave, and more like the hunter that she was. She noticed Biggs's shoulders relaxing deceptively—ready for a fight, too—less of the laconic billionaire, more of the supersoldier.

Just as they were led to the third door on the left, they heard several others open from above them. They quickly spun around, reassessing their situation.

Eight men filed out of four rooms on the other side of the building. They heard the footsteps of several more right over their heads. They were all armed.

Max's eyes met Biggs's grim ones. This was not good. There were too many of them, and they all had guns.

Suddenly, Biggs stood straighter, and Max could have sworn his ears perked up. He tilted his head slightly and then gasped. His eyes were trained on a woman on the balcony across from them.

She had long black hair, pulled back into a tight, tight braid that fell in a thick rope down her back. She was barking out orders to the men, and Max could only see her profile. But it was enough to make breathing harder, enough to send goosebumps traveling up her arms, and enough to make her heart freeze.

The woman suddenly turned around, and her eyes found them unerringly.

"511?"

"Brin?"

"735?"

The three of them spoke all at once, their voices melding into one barely coherent sound. Each looked frozen in sheer shock. Then, the dark-haired transgenic, pulled out the gun of the man next to her, and aimed it right at Biggs.

"Shoot them!" she ordered. "They're spies!"

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Alec heard the gunfire right outside his door.

His heart leapt to his throat, and he started to struggle with his chains. _No, no, no!_ He thought frantically, knowing that it was highly probable that 735 had recognized either Chase or Biggs.

Or Max had thought 735 was her sister.

Either way, covers must have been blown. Because that was a hell of a lot of gunfire going on. He saw a few fiery bursts of light fly through his room as stray bullets broke through the wooden walls and door.

He flattened himself against the bed while continuing to attempt to escape. A part of him knew that the likelihood of being hit by a stray bullet was high. He also knew that escape was almost non-existent in his condition. But he had to try.

Max would kill him twice over if she found him here, already dead, robbing her of the pleasure of doing it herself.

Suddenly, a dark body came flying through the doors, her back to him, long, dark hair flying wildly, and guns still blazing at the enemy outside. The dark figure landed on her upper back, tucked her head in and effortlessly proceeded into a back roll. She was back up on her feet only seconds after hitting the ground. Her guns continued to be trained on the enemy, and from what Alec could see, her bullets each found their marks.

The dark-haired girl turned to look at him, "Alec!"

At that moment, Alec wondered if he _had_ been shot. Maybe he'd died and gone to heaven, because a dark angel had just come for him. "Max?" he croaked in disbelief.

She was stunning to say the least. She was dressed in a leather ensemble that left nothing to the imagination. Her eyes were smoky and dark; her lips full and red. She was grace and danger personified, as she easily dodged bullets and fired her own.

Beautiful and deadly.

"Can you move?" she demanded, keeping cover fire for both of them.

"Chained!" he replied, the urgency of the situation coming back to him, and he struggled against his bonds.

Suddenly, he heard her mutter, "Oh, crap!" before diving on top of him, and then pulling his bed over to the side, forming a barricade. Less than a second later, bullet holes had riddled the floor where his bed had been.

Alec was immediately grateful for the amount of morphine 735 had given him. Otherwise, he would be in excruciating pain right now. As it was, he just felt a mild discomfort as his injuries were severely jostled.

He had slid off his bed, one leg still chained, both arms raised above him. Max still hugged him to her, and he didn't stop himself from inhaling the exotic jasmine scent she wore. She pushed him away and glared at him. "What the hell are you doing?"

"You were pressing me to you. I have to breathe, y'know."

She grimaced at him, then eyed his cuffs critically. She sat up straight, and that was when Alec realized that she was practically spilling out of her corset. His throat tightened, "Uh, Maxie, why are you dressed like that?"

"So I can save your ass, is why!"

She dipped one finger into the corset, and Alec could swear his eyes were the size of saucers. She pulled out a long, thin lock pick from between the valley of her breasts. "Eyes front, Alec!" she snapped.

"They are."

She growled in irritation. "We don't have time for your wisecracks right now, so just can it!" she retorted.

She started to reach for one of his cuffed wrists. But just as she rose to unlock his hand, a shot rang out and she barely ducked away from the bullet. She grabbed her gun and with barely a glance at the shooter, she shot him on the right shoulder. Alec heard the gurgle of pain coming out of the man's throat.

Alec was impressed. For someone who never used guns, Max was gifted with them. "Max, I thought you didn't use guns,"

She was busy picking his cuffs and keeping an eye out for the more adventurous shooters who tried to get into the room. "I changed my mind. I'm all about saving the penguins now," she murmured.

With a click, his left hand was released, and she handed him the pick. "Get to work. I'll cover us."

He unshackled himself quickly, one eye on Max, as she continued to protect him with cover fire. They were soon to run out of bullets. Maybe five more shots each. Max was a smart shooter, and only took a shot that she knew would hit its mark. But even then, bullets still ran out pretty quick.

"How many?" he called out to her.

"Maybe seven more," she said, "and Brin."

"She's not Brin. A clone. Anyone else with you?"

There was a moment's silence, before she replied, her dark eyes wide with uncertainty and a hint of fear. "I don't know anymore. Biggs went off to draw most of the enemy fire…"

Suddenly, more shots rang out, and they both ducked behind the mattress. At the moment, all they could do was stay covered, and make sure they kept the enemy from entering the room and securing it.

Their eyes locked for a moment, then Max's gaze roved over his face. She raised her hand to touch his face, and Alec almost flinched, half-expecting her to hit him. But instead, her fingers lightly grazed the healing wound on his forehead, and then traced down his cheek. Goosebumps built all over his arms at her touch. Her breath was warm, and there was a strange sheen over her chocolate brown eyes. "You're alive." She whispered simply, almost reverently. "I'm glad I found you."

He didn't know what to say to that. So, he turned his head and his lips brushed her fingertips lightly, by accident. His heart was suddenly beating painfully, as if bursting with emotion. If he wasn't in love with Max back then, he definitely was now.

The few seconds of quiet was interrupted by another barrage of fire from the door. Max tossed him one of the guns, and they both peeked out from behind the mattress and returned fire. But they both knew one thing was true.

"Alec, we're trapped."

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**A/N2: Save the Penguins. Watch Happy Feet. LOL!**


	9. Chapter 9: Then and Now

**DISCLAIMER: Not mine. Not yours, either…unless you're Cameron or Eglee.**

**A/N: Let me start by giving credit where credit is due:**

**The Black Dahlia is named randomly after the movie The Black Dahlia (with Josh Hartnett, I believe). Inside the Black Dahlia is inspired by Lady Heather's house in CSI. Alec's confinement scenes were inspired by a story I read a long time ago. Thanks to _a glorified nanny_ (anon.) for reminding me where it came from. LJ Smith. I don't know if she's still in print, either. It's too bad.**

**A/N2: Now on with the rescue. One more chapter left, I think. Didn't I say that back then? Yeah, well, you know how it goes. The story just comes out of my fingers, and I really have no control over it. Also, sorry for the late update. It's the Holidays. My muse went on vacation.**

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**CHAPTER 9: Then and Now**

"Hey, what kind of rescue is this anyway?" whined Alec, flinching slightly as a bullet ricocheted off the wall, sending debris flying his way.

Max glared at him. "You're complaining? My ass is on the line, and you're _complaining_?"

"No, no, no, not complaining, just…wondering out loud?" he amended sheepishly, as he kneeled up to return fire.

He heard the gurgle of surprised pain as his bullet found its mark. His lips twisted in a semi-satisfied smirk, knowing that he only had a couple of rounds to go.

Max glared heatedly at him, her black-lined eyes looked fiercer, and her blood-red lips looked fuller as she twisted them into a snarl. "I'll save you the trouble of _wondering out loud_ next time you get in trouble, because I won't be there!" she snapped. Right at the heels of that comment, she spun out and shot another assailant's right arm, disabling him from operating his weapon.

"Maxie, c'mon, you don't mean that," he jibed playfully, even as he took a quick peek from behind the overturned mattress to assess their position.

"Don't I?" she countered through gritted teeth. He watched her as she released the mag and quickly glanced down at it. There was only one round left. Another one in the chamber. That left four more shots between the both of them.

They were completely screwed.

There was no way in hell 735 was gonna let them off easily. She was a conniving little bitch who enjoyed making others suffer. Especially others who made her look bad in front of the boss.

Alec settled back against his former bed and sighed heavily as a momentary lull between gunfire settled. No doubt their enemies were edging closer to the splintered door, trying to gain entrance into the small room.

"Max?" he asked tentatively.

She looked at him, her face pensive and drawn. "Yeah?"

"I'm glad you found me, too," he sighed, thinking back to that strangely intimate moment they had shared just before all hell had broken loose. "I'm glad you came."

"Even if I fucked up the Rescue Op?" she cocked a brow at him, her head angled curiously.

"You didn't fuck it up," he insisted. "I was just trying to lighten the mood."

They both ducked quickly as a few splinters came off the wood just over their heads. Gunfire had resumed. But there was nothing they could do at the moment but maintain their cover.

Max snorted gracelessly, her eyes roving over his torn condition. Alec's eyes met with hers, and there was a look there that she had never seen before. His hazel gaze held her with a mix of tenderness and sadness. There was nothing mocking or amused in those eyes, the way she was used to seeing them.

"Give me your gun. I'll cover you, and you can make a run for it." He whispered, his voice low and grave. "You can make it if you blur. Escape and Evade. I think after all these years of practice, you'd be damned good at it."

Max's lips parted in surprise. Then horror and anger crashed into her. "Are you completely _insane?_" she hissed angrily, unsure why her vision was suddenly tearful. "NO!"

He leaned forward and grabbed one shoulder with his large hand. His eyes looked tired and worried. "Max, it's the only way," he insisted vehemently. "_We_ are not trapped, Max. _I_ am. I'm a broken soldier. But you—you can save yourself."

"You don't know what you're asking of me…" she sobbed, tears spilling over and down her cheeks. "Alec, I _can't_."

"I can't let you be caught with me," he argued, his handsome face marred not only by bruises and scratches, but by a confused frown as well. "We don't know what they're capable of, what they'll do to you…" he broke off with a strange choked sound

Max felt her throat tighten so much that it was hard to even catch a breath. She was suddenly hurtled through time, her memories reliving with transgenic accuracy the same beautiful face, wordlessly asking her to save herself. Back then, it was a broken leg and Manticore. This time, it was a broken leg and some very bad guys.

Back then, she had run. She had saved herself. With Ben, the decision hadn't been an easy one, but she had made her choice. At that moment, she had truly felt like she had no other choice.

But now, looking into Alec's pleading face, Max knew that there _was_ another choice. She could stay with him. They could fight together. To the fucking end, if they had to. She _couldn't_ leave.

"Max, go. Now!" Alec shook her shoulder fiercely. He reached out for her gun, but she snatched it away from him. He gave her an angry, incredulous look. "Max, don't be stupid."

"Why is it stupid to want to stay with you?" she asked stubbornly. "What if I told you it'd be even more stupid of me to leave without you?" She carefully leaned to the side to return fire, expending all of her bullets and taking down two more men, not even caring where she shot them.

"There's only three now," she muttered.

"They could have back-up," he said, his distress for her evident in his eyes and face. "Max, just go."

"Why do you want me to leave so much, anyway?" she snapped, her concern for him fueling her anger.

"Because, dammit, Max, I don't want you to die!" he bit out in frustration, throwing one hand in the air.

"I'm not gonna," she replied flippantly, secretly pleased with his answer. At least he cared. Almost as much as she cared about him. The thought crept up at her like a caveman with a very big stick. It hit her so hard she was breathless from the realization.

She couldn't leave Alec because of only one reason: she loved him.

She gasped out loud, and he was instantly alert.

"What?" he demanded

She shook her head briskly. "Nothing…" she muttered. "It's quiet," she realized suddenly.

"Maybe they're regrouping."

"Maybe."

"We're screwed," he groaned. "Max, if you hadn't gone and wasted those two shots, you could've really made a run for it."

"They weren't wasted," she pointed out. "I took two of 'em out. Besides, I'm staying and that's final."

"_Why_?" he sighed in utter confusion.

Max eyed him evenly, careful to keep her new-found feelings out of her expression. "Why do you think I've spent the last few days looking for you? Why do you think I even bothered to go through all the trouble of dressing up like a walking BDSM doll? Why do you think I'm _here_?"

He shrugged expansively. "I don't know, Maxie, to beat me up? To remind me of how much of a screw-up I am? To profess your undying love and devotion?" he replied with deadpanned sarcasm.

Max had to turn her head away because he was right on all three points. Except for the professing part. She was fine with feeling the undying love and devotion—not so much with the professing. "Well, thanks to your incredible ability to fuck up, we're crouched behind a bullet-riddled bed, trapped in a room the size of a giant closet, with only two frickin' bullets left."

"Hence, my asking you to leave,"

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Has anyone ever told you how stubborn you are?"

She grimaced a him. "I stubbornly try not to listen,"

Alec shook his head incredulously, then closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the bed. He had never expected things to be this bad…he couldn't believe he was going to be the reason the woman he loved was going to die. Again.

There was a moral to this story. And if he ever got out of this alive, he was going to be a little more considerate of people who might go out of their way to save him. Like Max. Come to think of it, he wondered why she had gone out of her way to save him. It wasn't like he was top on her priority list…right?

He leaned forward cautiously. She was still alert, his gun now in her hands. The silence in the last two minutes was almost eerie, especially after the barrage of gunfire they had been subjected to earlier.

"Hey, Maxie," he called out.

"Hmm?" She seemed to be deep in thought.

"What if I told you, that before I die, I would like to kiss you first?"

She looked at him, startled at first, but he noticed a strange flush creep up her face, blooming over her cheeks, and even down the generous expanse of flesh at the top of her corset. "Wh—what?"

"I'd like to kiss you before I die," he murmured, feeling himself flush almost as much as she was.

"You're not dying," she pointed out.

"I could be," he countered evenly, leaning even closer to her.

She eyed him dangerously. With her silky black hair, dark eyes, full red lips, and the sleek, tight black outfit she was wearing, she reminded Alec of a dangerous black cat. "Do you want to die now?" she warned in a low rumble of a voice.

"If it means I get to kiss you, I don't mind," he said. He wasn't quite joking.

She had no counter for that. He leaned even closer forward, testing to see if she would lean back. She stayed exactly where she was. In fact, her eyes drooped just a little bit lower, focusing on his lips.

Suddenly, Alec _really_ wouldn't have minded if someone had told him that he was about to die in the next two minutes. So long as he spent the next minute and fifty-nine seconds kissing those plump red lips of hers.

He leaned in, their lips only a breath apart, when suddenly, everything around them erupted into a fierce battle field of gunfire and explosions.

"What the hell?!?" he cried out in surprise. He reached out for his gun, realizing that it was already in Max's hands. She looked just as startled as he did, but also alert, the gun cocked and ready to fire.

There was a small explosion right outside their door, and Alec grabbed Max and pulled her against him tightly. He didn't care if the action tore stitches or moved fractured ribs.

A figure appeared out of the smoke and debris that filtered into the room. Max aimed the weapon at the silhouette, keeping the moving man in her sights.

"Hey, guys," called out Chase, his voice concerned, anxious. "You in here?"

"Chase!" Max called out, immediately putting the safety back on her weapon. "Over here!"

"I heard there was a damsel in distress," Chase ran towards them, picking his way through the debris and splinters that had scattered through the room. "I'm here to rescue you," he announced with his eyes on Alec, an amused grin on his face.

Alec scoffed loudly. Max rolled her eyes and scrambled out of Alec's arms quickly. She scanned behind Chase, assessing the damage. "Biggs?"

"Caught a bullet on the left shoulder, but he'll be alright," said Chase. "He's securing the prisoners." Then he eyed Alec carefully and whistled. "You're banged up pretty bad, buddy,"

"No? Really?" Alec drawled sarcastically.

"Kept waiting for you and Max to get your sorry asses out of the building so I could start the fireworks, but hell, you guys never came out," explained Chase, leaning down and hauling Alec to his one good leg. "Forced me and Biggs to re-evaluate our course of action."

"Not bad," grinned Alec, looking around at the damage his friends had done.

"Island's secure?" Max asked skeptically.

"Yep. It's not very big. No more than 1.6 clicks," explained Chase. He draped one of Alec's arms around his shoulder, and took on most of his weight. "For some kind of base of ops, this place didn't have much manpower."

"They had Brin…I mean, her clone," pointed out Max. "They must've relied on her to keep things secure…where is she anyway?"

"735 would be long gone by now," snorted Alec, as he hobbled along beside Chase. "She was never one for the teamwork and for sticking around for the long haul. She's all about self-preservation…which, in certain situations, is actually a good thing," he drawled indolently, his eyes resting on Max. But even as he said the words out loud, he couldn't help but feel just a little bit warm and fuzzy that she had actually stuck around.

Because only now did he realize that it might mean she cared about him. Even just a little bit. He glanced at Chase and grimaced. He was still slightly annoyed at how terrible his friend's timing was in the matters of rescuing.

"Yeah, she was always a good soldier—but she wasn't above running out on the Unit when the going got tough," agreed Chase, his voice thick with disdain.

"Brin wasn't like that," whispered Max, her eyes soft and sad. "She was loyal."

Chase grunted as he hauled Alec's weight with him. "Rumor had it, she was the one who tried to stop you from completing your mission of destroying the gene lab," pointed out Chase derisively.

Alec elbowed his friend in the ribs. This time, Chase groaned and almost dropped Alec. "What the fuck?" he hissed at his friend.

Alec nodded towards Max, who looked like a little girl who just found out that Santa Claus wasn't real. "She was my sister," she whispered with a heavy sigh. "But Manticore got to her. In the end, she was still loyal."

"Well, yeah. Guess I see your point," murmured Chase, and Alec nodded approvingly at his friend. They were trudging out of the burning building now, ash and smoke filling the large hallway that led to the main doors.

Max leaned down to pick up a weapon, the action causing Alec to remember just how she was dressed. He gulped painfully, as he finally allowed himself to take a really good look at her. Dressed in leather that looked like it had been painted on her, Max was a stunning vision. Literally a breath-taking vision.

Or maybe, that was all the adrenaline suddenly seeping out of his system. The morphine seemed to be wearing off, too. _Oh, great_, he thought with a painful grimace as his broken leg dragged behind him.

But before he could even open his mouth to complain, a small warm body was pressed against his other side, an arm snaking gently around his waist. "Shuttup," muttered Max, as she anchored him firmly to her.

He grinned widely. He was in pain, sure…but that didn't beat having an excuse to take most of his weight off of Chase and lean into Max more. The move allowed him a tantalizing view down her corset, and he inhaled the heady scent she wore. His friend smirked knowingly at Alec's tactics but didn't say anything. They hurried out of the building, only looking back once as it burned brightly in the dark night sky.

They made their way slowly, but surely, through the small path in the woods. Alec felt every jarring movement in his bones, but just gritted his teeth against the pain. His supporting leg was exhausted from all the hopping. His ribs hurt, his broken leg would probably never be set straight again, and his head was pounding. But he kept it all to himself. It was going to be all over soon.

They arrived at the water's edge, where a sleek yacht was docked. "Nice ride, guys," he commented. "You sure know how to pick a guy up in style."

"So _now_ you compliment us on the rescue?" huffed Max.

"Oh, yeah, yeah," he said. "You had me at the explosives."

Max rolled her eyes at him as they continued on the wooden docks. Their footsteps echoed over the wood. Biggs greeted them from where he stood at the helm. "Ouch!" he cried out, seeing the state Alec was in.

"Shuttup, Biggs," growled Alec. "Looks worse than it really is."

"Suure," drawled Chase as he untangled himself from Alec, turning him over to Max completely. He climbed up onto the yacht and prepared to pull Alec up after him. Neither had a choice but to stand hugging each other, Max bent slightly backwards from Alec's full weight leaning up her front.

"This is nice," he whispered softly, and pressed himself more against her playfully.

"Alec, now is not the time to be so…you," she berated. "Put a lid on it!"

"It's the morphine talking," he whined.

"Nice try," she replied dryly. "I saw your face while we were walking here. Morphine's worn off by now."

Alec smiled sheepishly at her. "Well, it was worth a try. Normally, a guy gets to get up close and personal with his girlfriend, but I guess that doesn't apply to me."

Max stiffened, her eyes widening. "You _knew_?" she gasped, her tone tinged with guilt and horror.

Alec shrugged lightly. "Biggs found out from Logan when he was delivering some stuff to get Eyes Only set up again. He thought I should know that I had a girlfriend tucked away somewhere that even I didn't know about." There was no admonition in his tone, but there was an unspoken question.

"I…" Max tried to explain, but Chase was already motioning for them to come aboard.

"C'mon, you lovebirds, this ain't a romantic moonlit cruise," he called out. They hoisted Alec up the ship with little incident and deposited him lightly onto one of the cushioned chairs. He groaned out in pain, but otherwise remained quiet.

What would have Max said? That she was sorry? What would happen if he asked her to tell Logan the truth? Would he lose her completely? What if he just took the chance and let her continue pretending? Would she start to see him as more than just a shield from Logan? Why was he caught in the middle anyway? Why him?

Before he could confuse himself with any more unanswerable questions, Biggs jostled an older woman from the cabin. She stumbled forward, her sleek hair ruffled, her dress askew, revealing a tantalizing amount of skin.

"Remember, Faith," said Biggs, his voice cold and clipped. "This is a warning. You mess with ours, and we will fuck yours up beyond all recognition."

_Faith?_ He remembered her name from the warehouse. "Wait!" he rasped tiredly. He eyed her coldly and angrily. "You know where the others are."

Faith twisted her red lips into an ugly sneer. But Biggs approached her, his step menacing. Despite the bloody shoulder, he didn't look any less intimidating. She cowered slightly before nodding.

"Take us to them."

Max glanced at Alec, startled. He met her gaze steadily. "I learned from this amazing chick that if I wanted to be a hero, I can't be half-assed about it. Figured I would pass on the wisdom to these two over here," he said with a small nod towards Biggs and Chase.

Max's lips quirked into a small smile, her eyes flickered then looked away from him. She put her hands on her hips. "What do ya say, guys?"

Biggs shrugged and Chase grinned. "Hey, beats doing the paperwork that's waiting for me at home."

"You heard them, Faith," said Max, slinking over towards the older woman. This time, Max didn't attempt to cower or pretend subjugation. This time, she exuded dominance and power. "Where are the others?" she purred.

Faith's eyes widened at the drastic change she saw in Max. When she still didn't answer after a moment, Max wrapped her hand around Faith's throat. "Don't make us wait…" she said. "We're not exactly the most patient bunch."

"You'll never get away with this," Faith whispered.

"Oh…is that what you think?" taunted Max. "Honey, we ain't a circus trick. This is what we do. And you know as well as I do that the only way out of this for you, is to do exactly what we say."

Max knew that she wouldn't really hurt Faith, but it felt good bluffing. She felt the fine trembling of fear that coursed through the woman. "I can take you there," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Good girl." She released Faith, and the woman slumped into a heap on the floor.

"Oh, and Faith," said Biggs, looming over the other woman. "Don't try anything funny. You know what we're capable of."

Then, grabbing blond older woman, Chase pulled her with him so they could set a course. Max looked back at the small island, a halo of yellow and gold over the horizon, the house still burning. She glanced at Alec, feeling proud, her heart swelling. He was one of the good guys after all, and she was glad he wasn't half-assed about it.

It made falling in love with him…well, all the more sweeter.

Not that he was ever going to know.

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**A/N3: See, I was going to end it at this chapter, then I remembered that there was Angel, and all those other kids…loose ends that needed to be tied up. So, I guess there's a chapter (or two) more of the story. Darn…I thought I was home free.**


	10. Chapter 10: Kiss and Tell

**DISCLAIMER: It's been years, but my request to own Dark Angel still hasn't been approved. That's why I'm going to Law School, so I can present my case.**

**A/N: Sorry for the delay, guys. It's been really hectic. REALLY. It took me ages to get this chapter out because I kept jumping back and forth about the plotline. In the end, the part that said that there should be a _little bit _of MA goodness won out. This just means the story gets to be a chapter longer than I expected. More work for me. But hey, MA is here.**

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**CHAPTER 10**

Chase and Max took Alec down to the bedroom below deck to lie down. He sighed blissfully and closed his eyes as some of the tension eased off of his injuries. Chase grinned at him and smacked him good-naturedly on the shoulder. Alec grimaced, but by then, the swelling had all but gone in his formerly dislocated shoulder.

He was about to say something worthy of his namesake when the sight before him caused his breath to leave in a strangled gasp. Sort of like being punched in the gut. Hard.

Chase and Max were facing each other, outlined against the light that spilled into the room from the bathroom doorway. He saw Chase tuck a stray strand of Max's hair behind her ear, and brush another one over her shoulder.

The scene was almost sweet. Except that it hurt so goddamned much.

They leaned their heads together and Alec almost shut his eyes, afraid that he was going to catch them _kissing_. But instead, they were whispering quietly. Alec strained to hear, but there was a roaring in his ears, blood rushing angrily through his veins as his aching heart pounded beat after painful beat.

A few moments later, Chase turned to leave, a goofy sort of grin on his face. He touched Max's elbow gently just before he disappeared up the stairwell, and he gave her a broad wink.

Alec frowned at the obvious display of affection. When did Max and Chase suddenly become all touchy-feely? He watched with growing annoyance as Max ducked her head and actually bit her lip like she was _shy._

What was going on? Had he missed something monumental? Like his chance with Max? Had Chase somehow taken his place as the resident smart-aleck at Max's side? Or worse, taken Logan's place somewhere in Max's affections?

Alec shut his eyes painfully and sighed heavily, trying to ease the knots in his stomach, and the heavy weight around his heart. His eyes were still closed, but he could hear Max bustling around in the small bathroom.

He felt, more than heard, Max kneel beside him. Alec heard the splash of water being squeezed out, and he opened one eye to look at Max. She had a bowl of water and a wash cloth in her hand.

"Hey," she whispered. "Lemme clean you up."

She reached for him, but he stopped her by wrapping his hand around her wrist. He tried to keep his expression as neutral as possible. She couldn't know the way he ached inside, like knives stabbing him a thousand times over, at the idea that somehow, he had lost his place in her life.

"Max, you don't have to," he sighed. "I know this doesn't fall under the job description for a rescue op."

"Yeah, but it is under 'friend'," she replied softly. Her expression was not guarded, but clouded. Confusion marred her brow, and her lips were puckered between a half-frown and a tentative smile.

He released her wrist slowly. "So, I'm your friend, huh?" he sighed, feeling the ache in his heart expanding into a dull throb that threatened to overwhelm him. Her _friend_.

"Among other things," she replied evenly.

He had a new label. Strangely enough, for the past year of their acquaintance, he had been her Breeding Partner, her enemy, her co-worker, partner-in-crime, thorn at her side, and resident smart-aleck…among other things. Now, he was her friend.

That had to be enough, right?

Alec grimaced to himself. Who was he kidding? It wasn't _nearly_ enough. He wanted to be her _everything_.

"You okay?" she asked brusquely, noticing his sudden flinch.

He smiled wanly at her. "Just hurt," he replied honestly. _In more ways than I can ever tell you,_ he finished quietly. Her expression gentled, and he realized that this was probably the first time in…_ever_…Max had looked at him like he was important to her.

Carefully, she dabbed the washcloth over the gash that was on his forehead. It was slightly swollen, and the clean, cool water eased some of the throbbing. She hesitated for a moment, her eyes downcast. "Look, Alec, I know I haven't exactly been a good friend, and I'm really—"

He cut her off, by laying a gentle hand on her cheek. "Max, didn't you ever wonder why you were number one on my speed dial?"

Her eyes flickered up to meet with his.

"Cuz you _are_ a good friend," he said simply, honestly. "Because no matter how much I screwed up, you were always there to bail me out, and you always tried to set me right…among other things," he chuckled.

She chuckled along with him, but sounded unconvinced. Her eyes were roving over his face, soft and tender. Alec's breath caught in his throat, and it was like he was drowning. Having her look at him with concerned, big, brown eyes…it was dangerous to his health.

He laughed uncomfortably to break the tense silence that had fallen over them.

Max blinked suddenly, and he could practically see her mentally shake herself. "What are you laughing at, smart ass?" she asked briskly, a trace of a smile in her voice.

Alec indicated to the way she was carefully wiping the blood off of his injuries. "A guy can definitely get used to this," he drawled indolently, falling back to comfortable banter with ease.

Max narrowed her eyes at him. "Don't get too comfortable. I'm just feeling sorry for your beat up ass."

"It's still a fine ass, Maxie," he drawled.

"Not from where I'm standing," she retorted.

He grinned. "I could give you a better view," he offered.

"No, thanks," she replied dryly. "I wouldn't wanna be scarred for life."

"Aww, Max," he groaned, he waved his hand vaguely over his injuries. "That's low. It's like kicking a man when he's already down."

"I told you I fight dirty," she replied, but her eyes were smiling at him. He smiled tentatively back at her, and again the air seemed to simmer between them. Alec wasn't sure how to deal with his painful awareness of Max. She was leaning over him so close, all he had to do was tug at her arm, and she would fall into bed right next to him. And God, how he _wanted_ to.

He closed his eyes, afraid that she would see the emotions in them. His heart was thundering, but he forced himself to take deep breaths. Finally, he heard Max moving around again, presumably to get clean water, since the first bowl had turned a dirty red from his blood.

By the time she came back, he had controlled his raging emotions. He finally allowed himself to simply enjoy the way her gentle hands administered to his pain. He was drifting off to sleep when he felt her warm fingers sliding underneath his shirt. Her hands brushed over his stomach in a near-caress. His muscles jumped at the light contact, and he practically stopped breathing. Within seconds, his tired body was reacting to her touch in the most uncomfortable way.

"Max," he rasped in a strangled whisper. "Stop that."

"I have to check your ribs," she replied matter-of-factly. "I saw your medical records I stole from Dr. Johnson. Seems you have hairline fractures on a couple."

"It's just a scratch," he protested, obviously lying. He flinched as her fingers ran gently along his swollen left side.

She gave him a look, a mixture of hurt and exasperation. "It needs to be checked. But if you want, I can get Chase to do it…" she trailed off. Then a smirk replaced the oddly vulnerable look on her face. "I didn't know you were so modest, Alec."

"I'm not," he growled. "It's just that…"

"What?" she grumbled. There was a sharp edge to her voice. He noticed anger simmering in her brown eyes.

"Not you," he mumbled. "I don't want you…"

Her expression was wiped clean, and she quickly removed her hands. "Oh." She cut him off with her gasp, sounding like he had kicked her in the gut. "I see."

She pushed away from him, but he grabbed her around the wrist, pulling her to face him. "No, you don't see," he amended.

"No, I get it…really," she said hastily, trying to pull her arm away from his grip. He couldn't let her go thinking that he couldn't _stand_ her touch because he didn't want to. It was because he wanted her to touch him a little _too_ much.

"Just let me finish what I was gonna say," he said through gritted teeth. She was pulling her arm hard, and it was taking a lot of his strength and energy just to hold her still. She stopped struggling, but her eyes were wary, and her face emotionless.

"Fine."

"I don't want you to touch me because…" he trailed off, not able to find the words to express how she made him feel with her barest caress. She stared expectantly down at him, and he took a deep breath and slowly tugged at her arm. He pulled her hand until her palm rested over his thundering heartbeat. "Because of this. Because you make me feel like this."

Their eyes locked, and it was like electricity arced between both of them. The pull was magnetic, drawing them closer to each other. The air sizzled, and it was hard to breathe. Their lips touched; the initial contact tentative, upper lip to upper lip, lower lip to lower lip.

And suddenly, it was like all the air had left the room and they _needed _each other just to breathe. Alec instinctively reached his hand up to cup the back of her head, holding her fastened against him as he slanted his lips over hers and fitted them against each other perfectly.

He moved his lips against hers greedily, exploring. She had such soft lips, and he coaxed them open by biting at her bottom lip. Her mouth opened with a small moan followed by a sharp intake of breath.

The sound shook Alec, and he pulled her closer to him hungrily. The mattress sank, as he felt her lean beside him. His pillow was indented by both her elbows, one on each side of his head. He didn't once care that his body ached as he brought his other hand up to cup her cheek. He lost himself in the pleasure of kissing Max.

He was lost in the way he swept his tongue into her mouth, tasting her. The way he groaned when she bit lightly on his tongue, scraping slightly with her small teeth. How she responded to him by returning his kisses with a heat that matched and rivaled his. And he was lost in the knowledge that he was completely, irrevocably, undeniably in love with her.

She started to pull away slightly, and he opened his eyes and held her fast. Their faces were only inches apart, her warm breath mingling with his.

She was staring down at him wonderingly, as if she didn't quite know what to think of what had just happened. He knew that he must look equally shell-shocked. And when he was rendered speechless, he talked. "That's certainly gonna win the best Nurse Kiss I'd Ever Had Award," he joked, cocky grin plastered firmly on his face.

A troubled expression passed over her face, and he couldn't help thinking that he had just said something very, very wrong. She started to pull away from him to get up, and he grabbed her arm. "Wait," he whispered.

"I…" she stalled, "I better go check on Biggs…and Chase."

Alec felt like he'd been rudely splashed with a bucket of ice water. _Chase. Right._

"Max," he intoned quietly, his eyes searching her face. He was more confused than ever.

She quickly turned her head. "It was a kiss, that's all," she said lightly, but her eyes were oddly flat and hollow. Then she tugged a little bit on her arm. Alec released her hand in frustration.

"Right. Yeah," he replied dully. "Just a kiss." He settled back tiredly against the pillows. He suddenly felt as heavy as lead weight. He refused to think about whatever that ache was in the vicinity of his chest. It hurt a lot more than any of his other injuries combined.

It hurt a lot like a broken heart.

"It's…not gonna happen again," she choked out. Their eyes met briefly, but she looked away quickly. "I'll get Chase to finish up down here. I should check on Biggs's shoulder. And maybe you can give Chase all the information about the others. We can't just go in there blind. We don't wanna make any tactical errors. It's nighttime and hopefully, that's to our advantage." She was babbling and they both knew it.

He opened his mouth to say something in reply, but Max had blurred away, leaving him behind.

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Max rushed up the stairs in a blur. She couldn't believe she had actually leaned down and kissed him. Of all the stupid things to do, that had to top the list. Max slowly licked her lips, still remembering the way Alec's mouth had felt moving over them. She could still feel the warmth that had seeped into her, the way her heart had accelerated until it almost hurt from how good everything felt—how right everything felt.

He had completely robbed her of her every thought, leaving only a series of sensations. Thoughts and _feelings_ had assaulted her…like wanting to sink into him and just let him kiss her forever.

Max grimaced to herself as she emerged from the lower deck. Who knew she was such a sap? She had never been into any of that icky love stuff—but one kiss from Alec and here she was thinking all sorts of fluffy thoughts.

She sighed heavily and paused at the top of the steps. She let the wind ruffle her long dark hair, taking in the salty sea air in one big breath. She bit her lip as she remembered that he hadn't been all that affected. He'd joked about it. Like it had been nothing. An every day run-of-the-mill occurrence—which, knowing Alec, was probably true.

How many times in the past year had she caught him stealing a kiss from a girl? It didn't matter who, either. Girls at Jam Pony, someone from Crash, a couple of X's, and…other nurses? Best _damned _Nurse Kiss Award. She shut her eyes against the stab of pain that seared through her.

How could she be so stupid as to think that their kiss meant _anything_ to Alec? He was the proverbial tomcat, and he had the charm to get away with it, too. Once she had heard from Sketchy that Alec had ordered a pizza and had taken the delivery girl with it, too.

She covered her mouth with her hand to stifle a small sob that threatened to burst out of her. Her lips still throbbed, imprinted by Alec's kiss. Her palm still felt the heavy beats of his heart…how could she have fallen for that?

Because she had already fallen for him. She snorted angrily at herself. Of all the people to fall in love with, it had to be him. If there was a surefire way of setting herself up for heart-ache, this was it.

She shook her head, bringing herself out of her reverie. She straightened her spine, and ironed out her resolve. She was _not_ going to dwell on the turmoil of emotions that were trying to boil out of her control. It was one thing to pretend to be Alec's girlfriend. It was an entirely different thing to expect monogamy out of him.

He had _joked_ about it. She was never gonna get over that.

Everything was a joke. Something fun to pass the time. She bit her lip as tears threatened to spill. _It was just a kiss, Max,_ she berated herself sternly. _Something fun to pass the time._ _Kinda like a joke._

She took another deep breath and exhaled slowly, allowing herself the few seconds to regain her composure. She was going to get through this. She may love Alec, but she was pretty sure it would go away with time. _And a whole hell of a lot of avoiding him,_ she promised herself.

She stalked past a shivering Faith, and she bared her teeth at the older woman in a not-so-pleasant smile. She was _not _having a good night. She barely just resisted saying "Boo!" because the older woman was already cowering away from her, a hand drawn against her throat remembering how Max had threatened her.

"How far along are we?" she asked Chase, coming up on his right as he steered the craft over the somewhat choppy waters.

"We'll be there in approximately fifteen minutes," he replied, looking at her over his shoulder. There was a speculative gleam in his eye as he assessed her appearance. No doubt her hair was slightly messy from Alec's roaming fingers. Or maybe her lipstick had been completely smudged over her face.

Max tried to maintain as much of her composure as possible. But Chase's unrelenting gaze unnerved her. "What?" she growled, placing both her hands on her hips.

"What are you doing up here?" he asked.

"Checking up on our progress," she replied easily.

"Uh-hmm."

"What _else_ should I be doing?" she asked with narrowed eyes. She tilted her head, jutting her chin out in a silent challenge to him.

Chase smiled charmingly down at her. "The _girl_ thing, of course," he quipped. "Nursing the injured back to health."

He saw it coming but did nothing to stop it. _Whack!_ Right upside his head. He flinched, but realized that Max must either need more vitamins, or she was just a softie, because that barely hurt at all.

He looked at her closely, and realized, for perhaps the hundredth time since they went off on this half-baked rescue mission, just exactly what it was about her that had Alec falling head over heels. Her brown eyes were fiery, but beneath them, there was vulnerability. She put up a pretense of fighting, but she never really hurt.

Well, only when it counted.

Max rolled her eyes at him. "You're an ass, Chase," she muttered in annoyance. "Makes me wonder if Manticore hadn't accidentally screwed up all the male genetics." She finished that statement with a glare directed towards Biggs who was snickering.

He immediately clamped his mouth shut, knowing that when they got back to Terminal City, he was still probably going to have to face the full strength of her wrath.

"We're coming up to our destination," said Chase, his eyes on the dashboard, reading the data.

Max nodded curtly. "Biggs, get Alec to give us the layout of the compound, and make sure he's secured. Then we'll move out."

"And Faith?"

"Toss her overboard," she said carelessly. She noted that Chase and Biggs's eyebrows all shot up in surprise. "In shallow water." She sighed.

They both simultaneously grinned at her before she rolled her eyes at them. Men!

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The compound was silent. _Too _silent. Max's skin prickled in alarm, but she pushed forward through the dense foliage that surrounded the base. She moved swiftly and stealthily, blending in with shadows of the trees. A few feet away from her, two other shadows moved just as fluidly. They were like predators, carefully and purposefully closing in on their prey.

They finally found the large warehouse-like holding area. She gestured for both Biggs and Chase to stop several hundred feet away, and the three of them crouched together. There was one SUV parked by the front doors on the gravel path. They could see flickering fluorescent lights through the narrow rectangular windows situated within a few feet from the roof. A generator hummed quietly in the background.

"I don't see any guards," Chase commented, his voice taut. His eyes were almost full-black, the dark brown of his irises only a thin ring around pupils that were quite feline at maximum dilation. Max knew that she and Biggs had their own pupils dilated, too.

The moon filtered through the clouds, offering more light, and their eyes automatically adjusted to the brightness. Moonlight could be like daylight. A hundred feet away could be like a foot away. They each spent about two minutes scanning the area, their ears pricked for any sounds.

Quiet.

Max frowned slightly. "That's what worries me,"

"Was there any way Faith could have sent an alarm?"

They glanced at each other in concern. It had not been likely, but it was still possible. Max pursed her lips thoughtfully. "I guess we'll just have to do this the hard way, then."

Biggs and Chase grinned widely, their brown eyes glinting and reflecting off the moonlight like an animal's. "The transgenic way."

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_Thud._

Alec's eyes immediately snapped open. _What was that?_ he thought warily to himself. It sounded like the ship's hull had hit something.

Or something had come up against the ship's hull.

He pushed himself up onto his elbows, his body protesting wildly at the motion. He ignored the pain that shot through him around his midsection and cocked his head, ears peeled for any more sounds.

_Thud._

There it was again.

_Thud._ _Thud. Thud._

The sound had taken on a rhythmic beat, hitting the boat at somewhat similar intervals. His brows furrowed in consternation. They couldn't be back yet, could they? It had barely been twenty minutes since Max, Biggs and Chase had taken the life raft to shore. The yacht had been left sitting quietly in open waters so as not to raise any suspicions.

_Thud._ _Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud._

So, what the hell was that?

Suddenly, Alec picked up another sound. He shut his eyes, focusing his keen hearing on the noise. Any other person would not have noticed the sounds amongst the natural creaks of the craft as it rocked against the waves, but he was listening very closely.

He heard a small squeak, as if rubber soled-shoes were slightly slipping on the wooden surface of the deck. Alec bit his lower lip in annoyance. Whoever this was, he was trying to be quiet. He reached for the gun Biggs had left him on the nightstand. He grimaced as he threw his legs over the side of the bed.

He carefully pressed a hand to his stitched knife wound on his side, all the while supporting his cracked ribs as he attempted to stand up. He had only broken his fibula, the smaller bone of his lower left leg, which allowed him to be able to hobble along with the splint Biggs had tied securely around his leg.

Bracing most of his weight on his right leg, he hauled himself against the wall adjacent to the stairs.

Within moments, he heard footsteps coming down towards him. He didn't recognize the tread of each step as Max's or any of his friends'. With an intent look, he relaxed his muscles to prepare for a fight. As soon as the man turned the corner, Alec slammed the butt of his handgun against the man's temple with enough force to knock him out.

The man crumpled to the ground instantly.

Working quickly and ignoring the pain, Alec pulled him into the bathroom and tied him up with the sheets. His mind was racing, his heart thundering.

He recognized the burly guy.

He was one of 735's men.

He had to move fast because time was running out. His ears told him that there was at least one more person who had boarded the yacht. But he wasn't worried about the other guy. Only one mantra flashed over and over in his mind.

_It was a trap; he had to warn Max and the others. 735 was here._

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**A/N2: Thanks for hanging around. I hope you enjoyed this chapter!**


	11. Chapter 11: Bent and Broken

**DISCLAIMER: Again, Dark Angel really isn't mine. **

**A/N1: Sorry for the long wait. Been out-of-touch with almost everything DA lately. I hope this chapter is still up-to-par with what y'all were expecting. It's been…difficult. Hehehe. Again, thank you to Laughter's Melody (Ani-maniac494) for being an awesome Beta. I keep her busy. LOL!**

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**CHAPTER 11: BENT AND BROKEN **

Max's feet were light, barely touching the ledge as she ran along the rooftop of the warehouse. None of them had seen any guards on the outside, which meant everyone had to be holed up inside. The plan was simple. She would peek in, guesstimate, then relay the information to Chase and Biggs who were still hidden among the brush. If the numbers and odds were in their favor, then they would use the element of surprise to their advantage.

But even if their enemies knew they were coming, they had no idea where they would be coming _from._ Biggs was positioned in the rear, ready to smash through the back windows. Chase had picked the shortest straw (though Max believed he had done it on purpose), so he got to be bait, walking right through the front door. And she, well she wanted all the fun and acrobatics, so she got to drop down from the roof.

Hey, they were X5's, dramatic entrances were their thing.

Max crept closer to the tilted, high windows and peered inside. She frowned, anger rising as she saw the girls, about fourteen of them, all huddled together in a tight group. She noted that there was every type of girl down there. Redhead, blonde, brunette, dark-skinned, light-skinned, young and old, rail-thin and plump ones; but they all had one thing in common: terror.

She noticed that there weren't many guards. For some reason, there were only five of them. They didn't move like transgenics either. One of them had just stumbled over a piece of dirt while he ogled one of the girls. Another looked like he had a cold, sneezing and sniffling every few seconds. They would be no trouble at all.

Ignoring the silent alarm that was blaring through her head at the sheer _easiness_ of the task, Max turned to signal Biggs. She unclipped the tiny LED penlight from her belt loop and flashed the 'go' sign in Morse. She saw his acknowledgment, and a moment later she heard Chase's unmistakable smirking voice from below as he strolled inside through the front doors, "Is this where the party's at?"

She grinned in amusement as she saw several shocked faces turn towards him. Taking advantage of the momentary distraction, she pulled her soft black sweater over her fist and drew back her arm. She flinched slightly as her knuckles made contact with the thick glass and _through_ the glass. The window shattered instantly and glittering shards of glass rained down. Muffled high-pitched screams echoed through the warehouse as Max dropped effortlessly onto a wide support beam like a black cat.

"Hi!" she smiled at the startled guards. "Santa was busy, so he asked me to drop in and check things out," she drawled saucily, just before she pounced on top of one of the still-shocked guards and knocked him out. "This one's been very naughty."

Finally coming out of their startled state, the four remaining guards pulled out their weapons. Chase quickly disarmed the one closest to him, and in the same second Biggs burst through the window making his own dramatic entrance. He rolled out of his fall, punching a guard in the face as soon as he straightened up in front of him. Max and Chase blurred towards the two remaining guards, neither of whom could seem to decide who to shoot first.

Within seconds, there were five unconscious guards and several girls in varying states of shock, terror, and confusion. Signaling for Chase and Biggs to tie up the unconscious men, she approached the nearest girl.

She crouched down to eye level. The girl was a redhead, no more than sixteen-years-old, and completely terrified. "Hi," she whispered, modulating her voice to keep it soothing and calm. "We're the good guys, don't worry."

The girl started to shake harder, tears pouring out of her eyes, her lips quivering. Max reached for the young girl, to pull off her gag, but the girl flinched and shook her head vigorously. Max frowned heavily. "What? What's the matter?"

"_Trap_!" she warned through her gag.

Just then, Max heard a heavy grunt followed by the unmistakable sound of a body hitting the ground heavily. She stood up and spun around quickly, and found Chase slumped unconscious on the ground.

Biggs stood near him, had both his hands raised in the air, held at gunpoint by a man. He was strikingly handsome, slightly older than they were, and his features were rangy. He had longish black hair the backs curling just over the collar of his shirt, a hawk-like nose, and the bluest eyes Max had ever seen. His outstretched arm, holding the gun a few feet away from Biggs, was all corded muscle, and his clothes could not hide the fact that he was powerfully built.

Max did not doubt for a moment that the man with the gun was a transgenic—an X4, probably. Her suspicions were confirmed the moment a familiar, beautiful, dark-haired X5 stepped into view from the shadows.

Brin's clone slinked out of a little office area that had been completely hidden from her vantage point while she'd been doing reconnaissance. It was cleverly hidden by an overhang and tucked away neatly in the back of the large warehouse. In fact, she now realized that the girls had been purposely placed near the front entrance of the warehouse to divert attention away from the little office. It was a brilliant ruse…and a terrible tactical error on Max's part. A mistake that might cost everyone their lives.

"452, I _knew_ you'd be rash enough to try to rescue these pathetic little creatures. I've heard you were all about leaping before looking. I'm so glad you live up to your reckless, save-the-world reputation." 735 chuckled maliciously. Her almond-shaped brown eyes glinted dangerously even as her pink lips widened into a humorless smile. "Bet you're missing all those extra years of _training_ now, aren't you?"

Max looked mockingly at 735, effectively hiding her surprise. "Oh, you mean that I shouldn't have gone off into the sunset, sang _Kumbaya _around a campfire, and lived happily ever after?"

735 narrowed her eyes into mere slits in anger. "You think this is _funny_?" she demanded. She stalked towards Max, the air practically vibrating around her, emanating menace. "You think you can mouth-off your way out of this?"

Max smirked. "Hey, a girl can hope,"

There was a barely suppressed growl that emanated from the man with the gun. The sound made the hairs on the back of Max's arms stand on end. It was an eerie and untamed sound. Her eyes flickered towards Biggs, and she could tell that he had also tensed minutely at the sound.

735's full lips quirked in mad amusement. "Oh, be careful what you say around him. He doesn't like mouthy little bitches like you."

Max let her gaze rest on the older man. His deep set blue eyes seemed to stare through her and _into _her. It was unnerving how brilliant his eyes were. He smiled at her, an expression that was more a baring of his teeth than anything friendly.

"By the way, let me introduce you to _our_ _brother_, X4-307," she continued conversationally. "Isn't that what you think we all are, _Max_? Brothers, sisters, one big happy family? _People_? Deserving names?" she continued to goad as she strolled closer.

Max stood her ground, keeping her face carefully neutral and impassive.

"Hmm…you know what, let me introduce us properly, the way you like," she mocked. "307, over there, likes to go by Trask. And me, I'm Brin."

Max's pupils dilated before she could control the burst of violent emotion that exploded inside of her at the mention of Brin's name. But even while her face remained stoically expressionless, Brin—no, 735—noticed the tiny detail. She threw her head back and laughed gleefully. She started circling Max, her movements slow and languid.

"It was easy enough, _Max_," she drawled. "Your precious sister died from her Progeria. Bet you didn't know that, did you? When you dropped her off, she was already beyond Manticore's help. You and your brother's sacrifice was useless. You know what they did?"

Brin…X5-735…stood within a foot from Max, positioning herself just out of her peripheral vision—right at her blind spot. She was close enough however, that Max could feel her hot breath tickling her cheek as she whispered darkly. "They took your sister, and they shoved her into Psy Ops for two days to try to…reclaim her. But when it became apparent that she was too far gone, they sent her to the Proving Grounds. They tested a couple of things on her," she confided cruelly.

Max stiffened, her jaw locked, and it was an effort to maintain even breaths. She didn't move a muscle, just listened. Her blood was boiling, however, the familiar anger towards Manticore practically turning her vision red.

"Did you know that penetration by a bullet doesn't really do that much injury? _Of course_, you did. You're a soldier. It's really the fragmentation that does the most devastating damage. You know what determines fragmentation?" 735 continued to taunt.

Max didn't bother to reply. The rational part of her knew that this was just a psychological tactic to break her. However, it was effective. She had chosen a sensitive topic. And with her looking exactly like Brin, it was getting increasingly difficult to shut out her emotions.

735 circled Max again. "Manticore wanted to find out. Especially when they had this nifty new piece of technology, fast-fragmenting bullets for lightweight firearms. The moment those bullets hit a medium…like, oh say, human flesh, and penetrate…you get the picture. Minimum recoil, maximum damage."

Max ground her teeth, but continued to remain silent. She was still trying to tune the other woman out, attempting to regain her situational awareness. She pushed 735's presence to the expanding her senses. Biggs was a hundred yards away from her, but only a few feet away from 307 and his handheld. There were fourteen girls, bound and gagged, a couple of yards away from her feet. They were going to be casualties if she tried anything too rash.

Her train of thought was broken as 735 came to stand in front of her. There was a knowing smile on the transgenic's face, as if she knew exactly what was going through Max's mind at the moment. "Max?" she murmured softly, effectively pulling all of Max's attention back towards her. "Do you know why they're called terminal ballistics?"

Max smirked at 735, looking her straight in the eye, refusing to show the other woman just how disturbed she was by the bits and pieces of information she was being given.

"Because they're meant for the kill. The kind of kill that causes the most amount of pain and suffering. The kind that's actually outlawed by international law when used in combat…but Manticore always got away with it. Did I tell you? That's what they tested on her. Turns out, fragmentation is really mostly in the velocity. At only about 2700 fps, fragmentation was damn-near certain. Death was damn near certain. Your sister was _very_ useful."

"You _bitch!_" Max lashed out at 735, all her earlier attempts at self-control flying out the window at the thought of her sister being used as target practice. But the other transgenic had been prepared, knowing full-well that this was the reaction she had wanted to rouse. She easily blurred out of Max's reach with a gleeful laugh.

"You really thought Brin had betrayed you, didn't you? Had turned back into one of Manticore's little soldiers? _Sorry_, but that was all me. They gave me her life. It was so much fun pretending to be her. You should have seen the look on your face."

Max bared her teeth at the dark-haired girl. "I'm going to _kill_ you." With that, she lunged through the air towards Brin's clone with a series of kicks. The other transgenic blocked the kicks with a series of high blocks. She managed to quickly spin out of the way, taking advantage of the few seconds when Max lost most of her initial momentum.

Max landed on both feet and turned quickly to face 735, body coiled into fighting stance.

But before she could attempt anything else, 735 grabbed a young girl, picking her up and using her as a shield. She had the scrawny girl in a fierce chokehold, the young girl's small feet dangled off the ground. Her hands were tied securely behind her back, and her mouth was stuffed with a gag. She looked pitiful, like a misused rag doll.

Max narrowed her eyes in disgust at the display of cowardice. "Let her go," she ordered.

"I don't think so," drawled 735. "Make one more move and pop goes her head."

Max eyed the girl, surprised that she was still so calm. Her wide, pale blue eyes stared back at Max balefully, as if accepting her fate without laying blame on anyone. Her breathing was slightly shallow, the only indication of her fear. Max knew she didn't have it in her to sacrifice the girl's life just so she could get her shot at 735.

She stared accusingly at 735. "Don't you care at all? About what you're doing here? They're just a bunch of innocent kids."

There was a bark of laughter from Trask behind her. "Innocent kids? Just like _we _were innocent kids?" his voice was guttural and rough.

Max turned slightly to face him. Biggs's face remained impassive, but she could tell that he didn't exactly disagree with Trask. He refused to meet her eyes, and instead chose to look blankly straight ahead, his lips set into a thin line.

"_We_ were never innocent kids," she agreed. "But _they_ are."

"Oh, please!" scoffed 735. "Spare us the do-gooder lines and heroics, 452. I mean, isn't this the part where you go off and save yourself? Isn't that the only thing you and your rugrat brothers and sisters are good at? Running away?"

"We were kids!" cried Max, her hands balling into fists, her short nails digging into her own flesh painfully. It didn't escape her that 735 had used the exact same phrase Alec had used before.

"Riiiight," 735 sneered. "_Innocent_ little kids. Never thought twice about who they left behind. Never thought twice about the others. You're just a selfish little coward. You don't know what sacrifice means! You don't know what _family_ means! You LEFT!"

"_I didn't know!_"

"You're a traitor! You were weak. You couldn't make the cut. That's really why you ran away. 'Cuz you weren't good enough. Everyone thinks so. Everyone _knows_ that the whole escape was because of you, 452. Everyone…even your precious _friends_."

Max turned to look at Biggs again. She didn't know what she was hoping to see—reassurance, maybe—but he looked away from her gaze. He closed his eyes and shook his head slightly. Unable and unwilling to deny the truth in 735's words. Max felt like a vice was clamping painfully around her chest.

"Yes, don't you see? 511, 494, 463…they _all_ blame you for the hell they went through growing up."

"No…" Max couldn't breathe. She felt suffocated. There was a ringing in her ears as she tried to drown out all of 735's accusations. Only she couldn't. Because they weren't accusations. They were the truth.

"They all hate you. They all look at you and find you … lacking."

"_Enough_, 735!" Alec's voice resonated through the warehouse. He stood at the open doorway, leaning heavily on the frame. In spite of the effort it took him to stand upright, his presence remained forbidding. He had a gun cocked and aimed straight at 735. "And let Angel go," he ordered menacingly.

Max stared at him, battered, broken, and incredibly beautiful, framed by the dying light of the sunset. He had come for them. Despite his weakened state, he had still somehow made his way to rescue them. She almost smiled, because it no longer surprised her. She had learned to expect the unexpected of him. And one thing she had never expected of him in the beginning was the deep sense of loyalty he had for those he cared about.

Her heart ached knowing that she was probably not one of the people he cared about. What 735 had said…well, it had sounded eerily familiar. Alec had at one point, pretty much told her the same thing. It only proved 735's assertions about how Alec _really _felt about her. And to think that in the whole year they'd spent together, she had expected _him_ to be the undependable one. It never occurred to her that he thought the same of her, that he thought she would just save herself at any given moment. That he couldn't trust her. That he _hated_ her.

But the worst part was, Max couldn't blame him, because he had every right to do so.

"Oh, c'mon, 494. What're you gonna do? Shoot me right through her?" mocked 735, her voice laced with malice.

Max saw a muscle tick dangerously along Alec's clenched jaw, but he didn't falter. He continued to hold his gun steady at 735, his eyes never leaving her.

"I don't think so, 494," she jeered. "From what I've seen these past couple of days, you've gone soft. You've become one of _them_." She shook her head, as if in disapproval, as if in betrayal. "You…you were supposed to understand. You were one of _us_! They tortured you, they hurt you the most because of them… She's the reason why you suffered so much! She's the reason they turned you into their personal guinea pig…but you're still with _her?_"

Max's breath caught in her throat at the thought of the agony Alec must have gone through. It was sobering thought, but these days, Max often forgot that he was Ben's identical twin. She just didn't see Ben in him anymore. She just saw…Alec.

But she knew not everyone saw Alec just for himself. He would always be 493's twin. He would always be the other half of the one who had gone crazy. In fact, she was pretty sure Manticore never let him forget that fact.

Tears blurred her vision for a moment. She wanted to say sorry…she wanted to say sorry for Ben. In all the years she had been on the outside, she had never once regretted it. Not until this moment. Not until she had an idea of the kind of life Alec must have led because of her unit's reckless decision to escape. The guilt that pierced her was so acute it was like being stabbed right through the heart.

Alec's voice caught her attention. For a brief second, she had been afraid to hear his answer. But the conviction in his voice riveted her. "Manticore lied to us. They weren't weak. They weren't traitors. And they weren't selfish. They did what they thought was best for their whole unit. Maybe that's why _you_ wouldn't understand. Because you're the one who's weak, who betrayed all of us by turning in one of your own to the highest bidder. You wouldn't even think twice about selling any one of us to be turned into lab rats, would you?"

A bitter smile graced 735's pink lips. "Everything I am, I learned so I could stay alive. It's called survival of the fittest."

"No," Alec said softly and deliberately. "It's called being alone."

Max watched as 735 attempted to control her temper. She noticed her grip tightening around the little girl. For the first time since the confrontation, Max saw a hint of panic pass through the girl's thin face. She longed to reassure the child, to let her know that she would do everything in her power to keep her safe.

And just as if she had read her thoughts, the girl relaxed and looked directly into Max's eyes. Those pale blue eyes shifted ever so slightly towards Biggs. It was a sign. Without making any movements to alert 735, whose gaze remained firmly on Alec and his gun, she glanced to where Biggs, Chase, and Trask were.

That was when she realized that Chase was awake.

Still sprawled at Trask's feet, true, but his breathing had changed slightly, and there was a bit more tension to his form than when he was unconscious. Biggs shifted slightly, transferring his weight to the balls of his feet. Instantly, both Trask and 735 eyed him suspiciously.

"I was just like you, 735," Alec admitted to the roomful of witnesses, regaining center stage, taking the attention away from the others. "I couldn't care less about anyone else, figuring that to each his own, y'know?" He chuckled ruefully, a sound that was strangely broken and pained. "Manticore sure as hell screwed with our bunch." His voice was ragged with memories filled with horror. "But I learned that there's more to life than looking out for number one."

Max stared at Alec as if seeing him for the first time. He never ceased to amaze her. Some days, she really thought she had him dialed down. Then he threw out curveballs like this. Then, without her knowing it, he had made her fall irrevocably in love with him. In that instant, Max wanted nothing more than to tell him that she loved him…and that he didn't have to love her back. She didn't deserve to be loved back.

"Oh, don't tell me: the Berrisford assignment, right?" scoffed 735.

"Doesn't even come close to what I have now," whispered Alec. For a brief moment, his eyes rested on Max and locked with hers. The look in those hazel eyes stole her breath away.

735's eyes narrowed angrily, shifting between the two of them. "Yeah? What's that?"

Alec took a limping step forward into the warehouse. "A Family," he said in a strong voice. "A Unit," he said, taking another step inside. "A reason to be better."

"_WE ARE BETTER!" _735 cried furiously, her voice pitched to near hysterics, her almond eyes glazing over with rage.

"NOW!" Max yelled, taking advantage of the other woman's momentary loss of control. Angel slammed her heel against 735's knee with all of her little-girl might. With a growl of pain, 735 eased her grip on her enough so that she slipped out. As soon as Angel was out of the way, Max lunged for 735, and rolled away with her. She delivered a single, powerful blow to the cheekbone, strong enough that she heard a crack. Instantly, the body beneath her went limp.

On the other side of the room, both Chase and Biggs took down Trask. Chase tangled his legs with Trask's, causing him to lose balance, while Biggs reached out for the weapon.

_BANG!_

The gunshot reverberated throughout the whole warehouse. Muffled shrieks echoed throughout as the girls screamed through their gags.

But the only sound Max heard was the heavy thud of Alec's body falling to the ground. As if seeing everything in slow motion, she watched as his body shuddered against the ground, his head bouncing slightly from the impact. Finally, she saw his head loll limply to the side, blood streaming from a wound at his temple.

"_ALEC!!!"_ Max barely recognized her own voice, raised in volumes of sheer terror. "_NO!"_

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**A/N2: Uh… Enjoy? Okay, okay…no comment. **


	12. Chapter 12: Forward and Backward

**DISCLAIMER: Dark Angel isn't mine. Although, hurt!Alec is. Oh, wait…maybe not him either.**

**A/N: Well, the end is finally ALMOST here. Thanks for reading and putting up with my tardiness! I've been debating with myself over and over how to end this fic, because quite frankly, I just want it to be over already! I'm sure all of you do, too. In any case, please don't throw rotten tomatoes at me at the way this thing ends. It seemed appropriate, given the hurt that was thrown at Max in the last chapter for her to do what she is doing in this chapter. Thank you to LaughtersMelody/Ani-Maniac494 for being a fantabulous beta reader! And she warned me about possible…not-so-happy feedback. I guess I'll just have to take everything with a grain of salt, though, right?**

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**CHAPTER 12: FORWARD AND BACKWARD**

Logan stood at the open doorway, pausing at the threshold, looking at Max's hunched form. He felt like an intruder, not sure if he should step inside the room, or just leave. It was like there was an invisible barrier of sadness and loneliness surrounding her. It made her seem untouchable.

It had been three days since she came to him, completely heartbroken and distraught. She'd been lost and she'd turned to him in friendship. He wasn't going to delude himself any longer. She'd told him everything, and he could do nothing but accept her decision. It was well and truly over between them. But he was also the only one left she could turn to.

Her head was bowed, dark hair obscuring most of her face from his view. She was leaning her forehead against the cool pane of the window, and Logan didn't need to see the tears to know that she'd been crying.

"I never thought it'd be like this," she whispered, sensing his presence. She peered at him through the heavy curtain of her hair. "I never knew it could hurt so much. That it'd be so hard to…_move on._"

Logan sighed heavily and pushed back his already-mussed hair. He finally stepped into the room and slowly crossed over to where she stood. He wished now, more than ever, that he could hold her. He wished he could at least reassure her with a touch. But that simple kind of comfort had long since been taken from them. He only had words left. "It's gonna be okay," he whispered, though he wasn't sure exactly what was going to be okay.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I didn't know who else I could turn to…"

He sighed heavily. "You know that you're always…welcome."

Silence fell. They stayed that way, both of them staring out the window for a moment. Rain began to fall lightly, splattering on the window. Max traced a raindrop's path down the window until her finger lingered on the sill. "I hate the weather in Seattle," she murmured suddenly. "It rains all the time."

"Actually, it just _looks_ like it's gonna rain two hundred thirty days of the year…but we only actually get about thirty inches of rain annually…" corrected Logan, a small smile playing on his lips. In his odd way, he was attempting to cheer her up.

She threw him a look, torn between amusement and exasperation. There was still that hint of sadness that pulled at the edges of her lips, but at least there was a little more light lurking in the depths of her dark eyes. "You know what I mean," she countered softly. The heavy clouds and the gray that hung over the city only emphasized her desolation. The weak sunlight that filtered through the clouds only served to highlight how dilapidated and broken the city really was.

"Seattle is your home."

She looked away from him, and back out towards the window. Her hands came around herself, brushing them up and down her arms. It was almost like she was hugging herself. She stared off into space, hands going up and down her arms, trying to comfort herself. She seemed lost inside her thoughts again. "It was so unexpected," she murmured suddenly.

Logan swallowed uncomfortably. "Max, you don't have to explain," he said, the tightness in his voice reflecting the same feeling in his chest. It was like having a steel band wrapped around his heart, constricting it.

Max tossed him a sidelong glance, coming out of her trance. There was that hint of amusement again, lurking in the corners of her eyes. "Liar," she whispered with a ghost of a smile.

She reached for him, and he froze. He stood absolutely still as she let her hand gently touch the lapel of his jacket. "I do have to explain," she sighed. Her fingers lingered, but finally, she took them back and instead shoved them deep inside her jeans pockets.

Logan released the breath he'd been holding. "I think we both saw it coming, didn't we?"

"I didn't."

"Who's lying now?"

She bit her lip thoughtfully and shrugged. "Guess I've always been good at lying to myself, huh?"

"Sometimes we find the truth too late," he mused. His voice was tinged by sadness.

She closed her eyes and gave him a firm nod of agreement. "It sucks," she growled lightly. "Love sucks."

"What sucks?" Alec's voice traveled from the doorway towards both of them.

Logan turned and nodded once at the younger man. With a tiny amount of hesitation, Alec stepped into the room and walked towards Max. He had a small limp since his leg was still contained in cast.

Max spun around to look at Alec, her heart hammering wildly in her chest. Her eyes had rounded momentarily at seeing him at here, standing and walking around. Her brown eyes traveled his entire length, taking in the mussed dark blond hair that spiked in several directions, some strands peeking past the white bandage that was wrapped tightly around the crown of his head. She noticed that he had an arm wrapped protectively around his midsection, as if in support of his cracked rib that she knew was caged in very heavy bandaging as well. She noted that the faint gash over his brow was almost completely healed, leaving only a thin white scar that would soon disappear.

Even then, he took her breath away.

Alec cleared his throat, uncomfortable at her close scrutiny. He scratched his barcode and looked out into the rain, too. "Looks like I got here just in time. They're ready," he mumbled, pointing his thumb over his shoulder towards the living room. He started to pick at the bandage around his head, but stopped after he caught Max's look of disapproval.

Logan nodded. "I'll go get the girls their papers and such," he said softly. He threw one last lingering glance at Max who smiled tenderly back at him. Then he threw Alec a quick nod, "Glad you're up and about," he said, just before he left the room without a backward glance.

Alec continued to make his way towards where Max stood, while she stared at him with a faint frown on her face, her brown eyes dark and unreadable. He finally came to stand next to her, and she turned away from him to look out the window again. "What are you doing out of MedBay?" she asked lightly, not looking at him.

"Manticore engineering's kicked in," he replied with a one-shoulder shrug. He hid the grimace that accompanied the slight pulling pain caused by his gesture.

Max snorted exaggeratedly. "Well, in that case, guess you're all better now," she murmured, her voice still light and strangely devoid of emotion except for the slight trace of sarcasm.

He grinned at her. "Are you kidding me? I got stabbed, run over by a car, and shot in the head all within a span of five days, how do you think I'm doing?" As if to emphasize his injuries, he leaned heavily against the wall next to the window and sighed dramatically. Then he reached into his jeans pocket and shook a small container of pills at her. "Thank God for these babies."

"Those are eventually gonna run out, y'know," she cautioned him, but a small smile pulled at one corner of her full lips.

He smiled boyishly at her, "You're not gonna leave me high and dry are you?" he asked, mischief dancing in his hazel eyes. He shoved his pills back into his pockets, and pulled her into an awkward sideways hug. "You're gonna go and rob some unsuspecting hospital of their excess painkillers to help your old buddy, Alec, get through the rough patches of his recovery, aren't you?"

She rolled her eyes at him, and pulled away before he noticed how much she would rather snuggle into his embrace. "You should just stay in bed all day. That way you won't need those pills."

"Only if you keep me company," he smiled wolfishly down at her.

"In your dreams, Pretty Boy," she retorted, although her heart rate did accelerate at his innuendo. Only, she knew Alec dropped lines like those on a regular basis. It didn't exactly indicate that he meant them at face value. "Besides, I already did you a favor by saving you from yourself."

"Hey!" he protested with mock indignation.

"You're accident prone. Anyone ever tell you that?" she asked with false gravity, her lips tilted up in a reluctant smile.

"No, I wouldn't call it accident-prone."

"Careless, then?"

He shook his head carefully. "No, not that either."

Max regarded him skeptically, her eyes laughing now, her lips quirking with that same laughter being held back. "So, what would you call…_all_ _that_?" she asked, gesturing to the various injuries he was sporting like badges of honor.

"Heroic."

She scoffed. "Heroic, my ass." She lifted her palm as if to smack him, and caught herself in the act. She immediately pulled back her blow by quickly crossing her arms in front of her anyway, also effectively restraining them from future use. "I'm sticking with accident-prone."

He shrugged. "Suit yourself. But we all know the truth." He was looking at her with a veiled glance, as if he knew what she had done. He studied her hands, tucked tightly against herself.

Max made an incoherent noise as a reply and turned to face the window again. The truth was, Alec had been heroic—though she'd never tell him _that_. All those things he'd said to 735 had made her see him in a different light. If she'd thought she was starting to fall for him before, she had known right then and there, that the deal had been cinched. She tossed him a cautious sideways glance. He was still leaning casually against the wall, seeming completely at ease. But his hands kept on clenching and unclenching, and he licked his lips several times. She wondered what it was that put him on edge.

She tilted her chin up towards him to let him know that she noticed, but she was unwilling to break the silence. For the first time since meeting him, she had nothing to say to him. At least nothing that she knew _how_ to say to him.

Finally, Alec shifted and sighed heavily so that she was forced to glance at him. "So," he said casually. "What was that with Logan? Are you two okay?"

She sighed, too, echoing his earlier one. Logan had been the last thing on her mind, and the last subject she wanted to go over with Alec. She ran a hand tiredly over her face. "I told him the truth. About everything."

"It's over, huh?"

She cocked an eyebrow at him. But there was a thoughtful quirk to her lips. "Been over for a long time, really," she admitted. "Only, I didn't know it. Or maybe I did. I just didn't want to figure things out. I don't know."

"I was talking about 'us'." He whispered softly, his eyes never leaving hers.

Max flinched slightly and quickly looked away, afraid that he might see how much his words really shook her. "There was never an 'us', Alec," she reminded him. "But yeah, I guess. Logan knows the truth, at least."

"Right," he muttered. She noticed his fists were clenched so tight his knuckles were white.

"Right," she confirmed, feeling her own fingernails digging into her palms as she steeled herself against the bitterness that filled her.

"So…" he trailed of and leaned his head against the wall. He flinched briefly as the move jarred his head wound slightly.

"What else do you want?" she sighed wearily. "An _apology_?"

Alec quirked his lips in slight amusement at the sheer disdain in her voice. Max wouldn't apologize, and he hadn't really expected her to. "Not unless you want to," he drawled lightly. "Not like I wouldn't love to see you try."

She huffed. "I'm not gonna."

"Then don't. I'm not looking for one."

"If not that, then what?" she demanded, uncrossing her arms and placing them squarely on her hips.

"Well…you still never really answered my question," he pointed out cryptically.

"Which one?"

"About us." He replied softly. He saw her pupils widen slightly. He saw the tiny, almost-imperceptible movement of her shoulders stiffening in shock. He tilted his head closer towards her. "Max, what do you want from me?" he asked in the barest hint of a whisper, turning the tables around on her.

Max's heart rate accelerated briefly at the statement. What she _wanted _from him was completely different from what the reality of her situation was. "I…can't tell you," she replied lamely.

"Can't…or won't?" he prodded. He pushed himself from the wall, wincing as the bandages tightened constrictively against his chest and ribs. He took one hobbled step towards her and leaned his hip against the windowsill. There was no more than a foot of space between them now.

"Why're you pushing, Alec? I told you that you're no longer tied to me whatsoever. Logan knows everything already…and…I asked you first!" Max countered lamely. She knew her voice was unusually high-pitched and over strung. She knew she sounded a bit hostile and desperate. But she had to control the riot of emotions running through her at the moment. What she really wanted right now was to tell the idiot to go back to bed and rest. What she really wanted was to climb into that same bed and cradle him to her. What she really wanted was to tell him that he meant the world to her.

Only, in reality, after everything she learned from 735, she knew that it was a long shot at the least.

He looked away from her, and she was slightly relieved to be out from under his scrutiny. "I…I want more…" he said hesitantly.

She cocked her head to the side, ready to listen. "More what?" She sounded frustrated, almost pleading.

"Just…" He looked strangely pained at what he was about to say. Max narrowed her eyes slightly in suspicion, wondering if he was over-taxing himself, and maybe she really ought to tell him to go back to bed. She felt her frustrations and anger melt away into the unfamiliar feeling of gentleness towards him. She carefully laid a hand on his sleeve to urge him to continue.

"Hey, guys, everything's set out there…wanna say goodbye?" Chase sauntered through the door without preamble.

Alec threw an annoyed, but somewhat relieved, glance at Chase. Max was pretty sure her expression conveyed the same frustration. Chase caught the murderous looks his friends were giving him and threw his hands up in the air in a gesture of surrender. "Sorry, I didn't know I was interrupting anything…_significant_." He wiggled his eyebrows at them just for good measure.

"Now is _really _not the time, Chase," Max muttered in irritation. "Go away!" She made a shooing gesture with her hands, but her expression didn't really convey her irritation so much as her amused annoyance.

Chase smiled sardonically at her. Then pointed his thumb over his shoulder. "Yeah, but just so you two know…there's a _ton_ of people in the next room waiting for ya…so keep it at a quickie, okay?" With a mock salute at them, he shut the door behind him with a very audible, purposeful click.

That left Max completely alone in the room with Alec. Not that they hadn't had the room to themselves earlier. But with the door closed, his presence seemed to really fill the room…crowding her, cornering her.

"He's such an ass!" growled Max, expressing her frustration by venting it at Chase's innocent by-leave.

"Well…I didn't know you had a thing for his ass…" Alec joked, but there was something forced in his tone that she glanced sharply up at him.

"I don't! I'm just saying that…well…he is one," she muttered crossly. "I mean, can you imagine the…the…idea of us…"

"Having a quickie?"

Max blushed. _Oh god, she blushed!_ When was the last time she had felt her skin heat up this much, her legs weakening and her heart pounding furiously just at the _thought_ of… She quickly moved away from the window since the glass pane next to her actually started to fog, too. "Whatever."

"I can," smirked Alec. "But I'd rather, y'know, take it nice and slow."

"With the way you are now, it's _all_ you can do," she countered, but didn't meet his eyes.

"I've got moves you can only dream about," he drawled, pushing off from the window sill to stand. However, the effect was marred as he flinched slightly as a wave of dizziness washed through him.

For once, she didn't check her impulse and hold it back; she just reached up and cupped his jaw in her palm. "You okay?"

Their eyes locked briefly, and he smiled at her. "Of course, I think I got a little too excited," he joked. But his hand came up to hold hers against his cheek. Max could feel the roughness of the slight stubble on his jaw. She felt the heat from his hand seeping onto hers. She felt the feather light strokes as his thumb made slow circles over her knuckles, and just this once, Max allowed herself the second to enjoy the sensation.

She closed her eyes and inhaled his scent deeply. Memorizing him. Memorizing this moment. Because she would never have any more than what she had right now.

Finally, she opened her eyes and smiled tightly at him. She slowly pulled her hand from under his, caressing the stubble on his jaw slightly. "I'm leaving Seattle," she announced abruptly.

"What?" he asked, frowning in disbelief.

"Just that…I don't think I belong here. Some of those papers that Logan has…they're for me… Anyway, speaking of those papers," she said hastily, trailing off and turning towards the door. "We should go, they're waiting for us."

She took a step forward, but Alec's hand clamped around her upper arm with surprising strength. "Wait, wait, wait," he growled. "You don't just say that and try to get out of explaining. What're you gonna do? Where you gonna go?"

She shrugged. "Before Manticore caught me and locked me up the second time 'round, I'd spent my whole life with one mission. I think it's high-time I took it up again. Y'know, look for Zack, Zane, Jondy…what's left of my family…"

"Your…family," he repeated softly. Slowly, he released her, his fingers easing their hold until she could pull away from him. But she didn't. Instead, his grasp on her upper arm became a sort-of caress, his fingertips barely touching her sleeve.

She looked up at him, tears in her eyes. "Yeah, my family. My Unit. They're the only ones I belong with now." Her voice was breaking, and in a moment, the tears would spill over her cheeks. But for once, Max didn't care. She just let him see her pain. "After…after what 735 said…I _know_ Seattle, Terminal City…it's not where I belong."

"How can you say that?"

"Nobody wants me here, Alec!" she burst out, and then bit her lip to control herself. She rubbed her upper arm hastily over her eyes, wiping away her tears angrily. "I can't stay anywhere where people would always look at me as … as the traitor, the reason why their lives were suddenly harder after the winter of '09," she explained in a much softer voice. "I can't stay where I'm not…wanted."

"So, you're just gonna leave, just like that?" he demanded, his voice much sharper than she anticipated. She looked at him, growing irritation simmering in her eyes. He didn't have the right to be angry with her. As far as she was concerned _she _was doing _him_ a favor by leaving.

"Yeah, just like that," she snapped, throwing her head to the side cockily, her voice developing an edge of sarcasm. In the same instant, she pulled out of his grasp, and crossed her arms protectively across her chest.

Alec pursed his lips and shoved his own hands into his pockets. He winced briefly as the sudden, staccato movements jarred his injured body. "You're running away,"

Max sucked in a breath involuntarily, like he'd slapped her. It took a sheer amount of effort to look him in the eye and speak calmly. "If that's what you think."

"Max," he said, biting his lip. "I didn't mean it that way."

"Yes, you did, Alec," she said sadly. "No matter what, you're always gonna think of me as that person who runs away when she can't stand the heat. The person who doesn't stick around through thick and thin."

"Then prove me wrong," he whispered, almost challengingly. "Stay."

"What for?" she asked tiredly.

_For me,_ he begged silently, unable to say the words. "For the people who care about you!" he said, instead. "O.C., Sketchy, Joshua, even Normal…and…and…_Logan_!"

Max shook her head sadly. He hadn't counted himself in the list of people who cared about her. In fact, when he put it that way, the list was…short. Painfully short. Too short. Not enough to walk through every day knowing that people she passed on the streets of Terminal City thought the worst of her. Not enough to live in Seattle knowing that the people she bumped into would rather she wasn't there at all. And it was never enough to know that the man she had come to love couldn't even bring himself to _care_ about her.

"I already talked to Sketch and Cindy," she sighed. "I'll keep in touch with them. And Joshua, he'll understand. He's always longed to find a home, and he belongs in TC. As for Normal," she chuckled mirthlessly at that. "He'd be more than happy to see me gone. I'll even give him my resignation gift-wrapped."

Alec shifted uncomfortably. "And Logan? You're just gonna leave him, too?"

She eyed him questioningly. "I've said what I needed to say to him. It's over between us. And like I told you before, things between me and Logan are really none of your business. Look, Alec, we really need to get going, they're wai—"

"What about _me_?" he asked roughly, cutting her off.

Max stared at him, mouth hanging open in shock, her throat suddenly dry and tight. The truth was, leaving him was the hardest part of all. She knew she would wonder every day what he was doing: whether he was laughing as much, or whether he was hurt after a heist, or whether he managed to charm new contacts into helping TC survive, or…or if he had finally fallen in love with someone.

Alec stepped forward menacingly. "What about me, Max? You weren't even gonna say goodbye, were ya? You were just gonna blaze outta here without so much as a 'Nice knowin' ya, Alec', am I right?" His tone was ragged and angry.

She reared back slightly at the vehemence in his voice. "I was gonna…"

"What? Call me when you were somewhere halfway across South America? Send me a "Dear Alec" letter?" he demanded, his hazel eyes flashing golden fire.

Max clenched her jaw, her own fire rising to match his. "What difference does it make if I say goodbye now or later?"

_Because I never got the chance to make you stay,_ he thought bitterly. Instead, he smiled humorlessly at her. "You're right, what difference does it make? I'm just the screw-up you can't be bothered to think twice about."

"I never said that!"

"You say it often enough, it should be a bumper sticker," he drawled indolently, his hazel-green eyes turning strangely opaque and unreadable.

She growled angrily at him, anger and frustration mounting. "Maybe if you didn't prove me right so often, like you so royally did just a couple of weeks ago, I wouldn't say it so often!" she countered. She threw her hands up in the air and spun around. "You're impossible! I'm leaving." She started walking away from him towards the door.

"That's right, just _run away_!"

She stopped dead in her tracks, halfway through the room. Her throat constricted and her heart thudded painfully at his words. She heard the emphasis he had placed on those last two words. He had known it would hurt. And by God, it did. She squared her shoulders and threw him a dark glare. "I think I will. I've had enough practice by now; I'm pretty much an expert at it." She kept her tone frosty and calm, belying the fire of the hurt that burned inside of her. With that, she turned and sedately walked towards the door. She quickly opened it and left without a backwards glance.

She hadn't been prepared to say goodbye to Alec then and there. She hadn't expected him to suddenly show up at Logan's place. She had planned on dropping by MedBay just before she left. She was supposed to have some kind of speech ready. And he was supposed to be in bed, accepting her decision, unable to stop her.

Not _this_.

As it was, she'd completely botched the whole goodbye-thing. Maybe he was right about her, because here she was, rushing—running—away as fast as she could from him, and into the safety of the other room where several people were waiting.

Some of the girls they had saved had opted to go home, and into the protection of their families.

Some, who had nowhere else to go, had chosen to start new lives elsewhere, away from where members of the Black Dahlia could find them. That handful of people, about six girls, was now sitting in the living room, huddled together on an old ratty couch.

"Thank Eyes Only again, for us," said the oldest of the six. She had dark hair and even darker eyes. She was holding on to the papers of her new identity and speaking to Logan, her eyes sincere and her voice quivering with gratitude.

"I will," replied Logan, gravely. Then he nodded towards Asha and one of her S1W friends. "They're gonna take you to your rendezvous points for your transports. If you have any questions, you can ask them."

Six heads nodded vigorously.

Max sauntered in and smiled at everyone. "Are you all ready?"

There were several hesitant nods, but the hope in their eyes was enough for Max. These girls were going to be okay. Logan had already arranged for jobs and places they could live in at their destinations. It was one more thing she really appreciated about him. She smiled her gratitude at the bespectacled man, and he nodded in acceptance, understanding the simple gesture.

"By the way," murmured Logan, tossing Max a small envelope that she caught in mid-air.

"What's that?" asked Chase, his eyes on the envelope.

"Her ticket outta here," said Alec, finally appearing through the threshold, leaning his shoulder heavily against the doorframe. His face was unreadable and taut. Max looked at him through hooded brown eyes. It was suddenly starkly clear how hurt he was.

When he grinned and smirked, his eyes lit up, and it was as if that was all she could see. But when he was withdrawn like he was now, she noticed how pale his face was, how stark the red stain was against the whiteness of the bandage that wrapped around his head. She noticed the dark circles under his weary eyes, and how gaunt his cheekbones had become in the week since they had returned—a testament to how ill he still really was. She also noticed the thin lines around his mouth, tired lines that spoke of the pain he kept to himself, when all the while he was laughing and smiling for the world to see.

"You're leaving, too?" asked Biggs, his voice sounding like a mild accusation.

Max shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "Yeah, I figured that I'd stayed in Seattle for almost four years now…it was time to…move on."

Chase looked like a fish out of water, his mouth opening and closing in disbelief, no sound coming out. He shook his head as if to clear it, scratched his hair, and then tried again. "Move on to _what_?" he burst out with fine indignation.

Max rolled her eyes at him. "To bigger and better things, what do you think?" she drawled with a crooked smile, although she couldn't completely hide the bitterness in her tone. She looked at the contents of the envelope from Logan, hiding the small frown that tugged her smile downward. There they were, passes in and out of every state in the country. Not that she really needed them, but Logan had insisted she take them all, just in case.

"Does this have something to do with what 735 said?" demanded Chase, never one to beat around the bush.

Max eyed him grudgingly, considering leaving his question unanswered. But there were several witnesses in the room, all of whom had their eyes and ears trained on her. She sighed heavily. "Yes, and no," she replied evasively. Then she looked around the room at the other girls. "You better get going or you're gonna miss your transport," she suggested. There were several murmurs of agreement, followed by Logan and Asha discreetly gathering everyone out of Joshua's old house.

There was a small tap on her sleeve and Max looked to see Angel hovering tentatively next to her. "Hey, kid," she smiled.

"I just wanted to say thanks for coming to get us, too," she said softly, her blue eyes glowing with gratitude.

Max smiled her first genuine warm smile of the day—maybe of the whole week—and pulled Angel into a hug. It felt remarkably good. Aside from her once-in-a-blue-moon hugs with Original Cindy, Max hadn't had another person this close to her in a long time.

"Tell him," whispered Angel.

Max looked at the younger girl with a confused expression. "Tell who what?" she asked.

"Alec. Tell him that you love him."

Max reared back slightly in surprise. "What the—"

Angel smiled softly, serenely at her. "It's why they wanted me so badly. It's why I can't go back home."

"You can read minds?" she asked softly, slightly astonished.

Angel shook her head. "Not really. I just get…_feelings_. And well, I've had them all my life. Some people would call me psychic and put me in one of those turbans with a fake mole and a crystal ball…but…it's just who I am."

Max nodded slowly, easily accepting Angel. It wasn't like nature and the world couldn't produce its own special brand of "gifted" kids without the help of science. Angel nudged her arm and nodded towards Alec, who was saying goodbye to the others. "Tell him." And then she was gone, running towards Alec.

Max watched as Alec leaned down, hiding his grimace of pain so he could give Angel a hug. She approached them slowly, her eyes never leaving Alec.

"I knew you'd come back for us," Angel said, her blue eyes glowing with adoration.

Alec smirked and chucked her under the chin. "Yeah, how'd you figure?"

"Cuz, you're one of the good guys," she said easily, before grinning sunnily at him and waving her goodbyes.

"Don't go ruining my reputation now," he called out as she climbed into the back of a jeep. She just grinned and rolled her bright eyes at him. Then, she was gone with the shutting of a car door and the gunning of the engine.

That left five of them standing just inside the front porch of Sandeman's old house watching two cars drive away and taking separate routes. A few minutes later, Max wordlessly turned back and walked inside the house, knowing full well it was her turn to go. She wanted this part to be over quickly. She had never been good at goodbyes. In fact, she'd never really had to say goodbye to too many people because she'd never allowed herself to be attached to anyone enough to say a proper goodbye.

Not until she came to Seattle and made a home.

She walked into the spare bedroom she had been using for the past few nights to gather her things. She'd spent three nights here, talking to Logan, explaining everything, and planning to look for her brothers and sisters. He had given her everything he had stored in his files, including his last lead on "Adam". Max smiled a bittersweet smile at the thought of being on the road again, and at the possibility of finding the others after almost twelve years.

It was strange. For ten years, since her escape from Manticore, her every waking thought had been to find her Unit again and keep out of Lydecker's grasp. But in a single year, Alec had filled her every waking thought. So much that even the sight of Jondy's face or hearing Krit laugh again couldn't take away the pain at the thought of never seeing Alec's face again or hearing him laugh. She fought back the fresh surge of tears that burned in the back of her eyes. But she knew that leaving Seattle was probably the best thing she could do for everyone.

She would always be a walking reminder of the living hell Manticore had made of his life. No wonder he had never taken her seriously. She couldn't blame him. And the truth was, she didn't want to stay anywhere near where she might have to see him with someone else who could make him happy. She didn't think she could live with knowing that. So, maybe he was right. Maybe she was running away.

She was shoving her toothbrush into a pocket in a small black bag when there was a single knock at her door.

She turned around to see Chase's broad-shouldered frame filling the doorway completely as he hovered just outside her room. He cleared his throat self-consciously and smiled slightly at her. "I'm gonna head back to TC," he said. His deep brown eyes were troubled, his curly dark hair ruffled by the constant running of his fingers through it. "I better hear back from you," he smirked, although she could tell his eyes were shadowed.

Max smiled at him. "You know it."

"You're a lot more fun than you look, y'know that?" he confided with a wider grin, this time, some of the amusement sparkled in his coffee brown eyes.

She rolled her eyes at him. "Just go before I'm tempted to kick your ass."

He smiled warmly and genuinely this time. He tentatively opened his arms and stepped forward into the room for a hug. Max easily slipped into his arms and gave him a good, solid squeeze. "Thanks for…everything."

He nodded easily, "You're not so bad, yourself." And with that he turned around and left, equally uneasy with goodbyes. He missed the shadow that passed over Max's face at his comment. He would never know how much it meant for her to be accepted, yet to know that not everyone felt the way he did about her.

Biggs turned the corner in the hallway and came towards her, and without hesitation Max swatted him on the side of his head. "OW!" he cried indignantly. "What was that for?"

"Making me your subordinate!" she yelled. She swatted him again. "And that's for making me call you 'Master'," she growled. She punched his arm good-naturedly. "And that is for picking my outfit."

"Hey! Chase helped with that!" he whined good-naturedly.

She narrowed her eyes dangerously at him, until he raised his hands up in mock surrender. "Okay, okay, so I mostly picked it out," he grinned. "Can't say I regret that too much, though."

She swatted him again until he ducked his head. "I said 'not too much' which means I regret it a little!" He turned to Alec who was standing at the end of the hallway, with a look of disbelief on his face. "How in the world do you put up with her?"

Max stuck her head out of her room to glance towards Alec, whom she had been effectively ignoring the whole time. She watched the small smile that played on his lips, and the almost-tender look he tossed her way. "It's one of my rare and special talents," he murmured.

Biggs grinned at his friend then turned back to Max. Instantly, his expression sobered. "About…well, everything," he muttered uneasily, obviously unaccustomed to apologies.

Max shrugged him off and rolled her eyes playfully. "Whatever."

Biggs stared at her uncertainly, before shrugging too. "In that case, y'know, take care and stuff."

Max smiled warmly at him and gave him the same brotherly hug she had given Chase. "You take care of him for me, will ya?" she whispered into his ear, so softly that she was positive only Biggs could hear her.

"He'll be as good as new for when you come back," he replied just as softly.

Neither of them mentioned anything about whether or not she really was going to come back.

With a final nod, Biggs jogged off.

* * *

Alec stood out on the porch and watched his friends ride away back to Terminal City. He leaned his good arm heavily on the railing and took as deep a breath as his bound rib cage allowed him to. It didn't ease the strangling sensation he felt.

He doubted anything ever would once Max left.

He momentarily considered physically restraining her. But with the state he was in right now, he had a better chance of falling in a dead faint at her feet. It had taken a lot of energy to get out of bed today. He hadn't seen her in the last three days. He'd been too busy recuperating and she'd been…nowhere around. It had hurt when she suddenly stopped dropping by. At first, she had stopped by with a few scathing remarks about how he should've watched where he was going…walking into the path of the bullet like that. But they both knew that if he hadn't twisted away in the last second, the bullet would have gone straight through his skull. As it was, his evasive maneuver only caused the bullet to glance off his temporal plate…saving his life.

The second day she had stopped by, but he'd been in a deep drug-induced sleep. Doc had said she'd cried at his bedside for hours. The news had caused his heart to constrict painfully wondering what her tears were for. He desperately wanted to find out if it was something he had done. Maybe he could make things right.

The third day, she had only stayed for a minute, telling him she was glad that he was gonna be okay. Then with a nod and a strangely blank expression, she'd left without giving him a chance to say anything.

She hadn't come back again for the next three days. And he had waited. And waited. And waited. Until he couldn't wait anymore.

So, Alec had taken things into his own hands and figured that things couldn't go on the way they were. He had to know where he stood with Max, even if it was just as her friend. He had checked himself out of MedBay, promising the Doc that he'd be back before nightfall. Then he had all but ordered Chase to help him find Max. That had been four hours ago. Right now, he was just exhausted. That dead faint at her feet was looking more and more appealing by the minute.

But the biggest drain on him wasn't physical. It was something far more grueling than anything he had ever had to deal with: emotions. Manticore had always used PsyOps as a way to by-pass certain emotional and psychological side-effects of their missions. Alec never thought he'd wish for the day someone could just press _rewind_ and _delete_ somewhere in his brain. It would make things so much easier.

He ground his teeth together, hearing the grating noise and focusing on that. He tried to blank his mind. He tried to empty himself of everything. He tried to let go of everything that made the thought of waking up tomorrow knowing Max wouldn't be around so painful.

But he just didn't know how to get past that lump in his throat. He didn't know how to make himself stop thinking about a bleak future without Max. He didn't have a clue how to make the raging jealousy shut up inside of him. And he sure as hell didn't have any idea how to tell Max exactly what he felt for her.

The last thing he had expected was to find out that she had shacked up with Logan for the last three days. That had been the first painful blow that had sent him reeling. Then, he had heard from Chase that Logan _knew_ he and Max had never been together. Like the first time around, he had been the last to know. It was like being socked in the gut.

The final and killing blow had been finding out that she was leaving.

After that, everything was just a haze. He'd said goodbye to those girls, he'd smiled and laughed, but every breath had been hell. Every second that passed told him that she was closer to _gone_. And he didn't know how to make it _stop_. Just for a second. Just to catch his breath. Just to…to what? What could he do or say to make her stay?

He knew why she was leaving. He wasn't sure he could really blame her for wanting to leave. Everything that 735 had said weren't exactly lies. They had all been true at some point in the past. But that was the thing. Most of them weren't true anymore. A year out of Manticore had opened the eyes of most Transgenics. They had learned to see beyond what Manticore had taught them.

But even knowing that, he was still helpless to stop her.

He smiled tiredly to himself. He could always tell her that he was in love with her. That he needed her. But, Max was like a freight train going at full-speed. It took someone crazy and invincible to stand in front of her and make her stop. Right now, he knew he'd just get trampled. His heart wouldn't stand a chance. The simple truth was, he wasn't ready.

He sighed heavily and shifted his weight off his broken leg. The movement caused him to look into the window where Max was busy getting ready to leave.

He saw her brush away a long strand of hair from her shoulder with a careless hand. She moved around the room, shoving pieces of clothing into her small black duffel with the same careless grace she did everything else. His lips lifted slightly in a tender smile. Max stomped through life with the delicacy of a raging bull, but somehow she managed to come out of everything with grace.

He frowned when he noticed Logan approaching her. He forced himself to focus on the throbbing pain of his cracked ribs instead of on the agonizing sensation that burned in his chest at the sight of him reaching for her shoulder.

He saw Logan's gloved hand touch Max's hair. His breaths became shallow. The burning sensation moved to the pit of his stomach, making him realize how empty he was inside. He saw the way Max leaned into Logan's touch, her cheek cupping into his palm. Alec could have sworn his heart stopped beating.

He caught bits and pieces of their conversation. He tried to drown out the words—it should've been easy with the roaring in his ears—but he still heard them.

"I love you," murmured Logan, threading his leather-clad fingers through Max's long, dark hair. Alec shut his eyes, but the vision seemed burned onto the lids of his eyes.

" _Logan_," Max's voice was hoarse and hollow. Empty. Hurt. Lost.

Alec had to see her. He opened his eyes again and watched as Max touched each on of Logan's fingers tenderly, encased in the gloves. For a moment, he allowed himself a brief pang of sympathy for the fact that they could not touch. But something more primal inside of him was _glad_ that they couldn't.

His breathing eased slightly as he saw Max pull away from Logan's touch. There was a sad smile on her face. "I have to go," she said softly. It was a tone filled with regret, one he had always associated with Logan. Strangely enough, Alec could no longer hear the undercurrent of longing that used to lace her voice. He had once associated that with Logan, too.

Max had really let go. She had really made herself ready to leave. If Logan couldn't stop her now…what chance did he have?

"…no matter what…you'll always have a friend here," Logan was saying.

She was fighting tears. "I _know_. And… thanks…for…being who you are. For being the best person I've ever had the fortune to rob." She chuckled lightly, and Alec had to wonder how they had met in the first place. Certainly a lot less auspicious than his own first meeting with Max. Nothing could ever top their first meeting.

He felt a small smile curl his lips at the memory. It was a _terrible_ first meeting. Yet, it made him realize how far they had come in less than a year. It could've been more. It _should've_ been more…if only she'd stay.

Logan raised his hand as if to run it through his hair, but thought twice of it, and placed them back inside his pockets instead. "You're still the singularly most beautiful cat burglar I've ever met."

"What can I say? I'm one hell of a piece of work."

Alec saw them both smile at her words, an inside joke he wasn't privy to, but neither of their smiles reached their eyes. They stood in awkward silence for a few moments before Max looked over her shoulder at her packed bags. It was as clear a sign as any.

Logan just nodded once and stifled a sigh. "It's gonna be all right, Max," he reassured her, though his voice was barely above a whisper. "I'll let you finish up here," he said with a slight nod.

He turned to leave and noticed Alec looking through the window. Logan gave him a tight-lipped smile before turning away. He wasn't sure if he had seen a brief look of understanding that passed over the older man's face before he left, but Alec watched him with a tiny twinge of guilt. He had never once doubted how much Logan loved Max. Like there was no doubt anymore that he loved her, too.

Alec wondered briefly if he was as doomed as Logan to let Max just slip out of his grasp. A slight breeze ruffled his uncombed hair, a tiny reminder that time was still moving forward. He knew that he was losing her, and he was losing her fast.

* * *

Max walked out onto the porch and stood in front of him. Her heart picked up its rhythmic beating just at the sight of him. Battered and bruised, bent and broken, he was still beautiful. She dropped the small bag she had carried out with her onto the wooden floor of the porch. "So," she started.

"So."

"This is goodbye, huh?"

He didn't reply. Instead, he just looked soulfully into her eyes, as if he wanted to somehow get inside of her. It was disconcerting, especially considering the fact that his face remained devoid of emotion.

Max looked away and pretended to inspect her Ninja, which was parked on the curb in front of the old house. "Guess I'm in for a wet ride," she mumbled.

He made an incoherent grunting noise. She wasn't sure if he meant anything by it. The silence between them stretched. There were so many things she wanted to say, yet had no words to express them. There were so many emotions she wanted to share with him, but wasn't sure she knew how to. In fact, she wasn't sure they'd be welcome or wanted at this point.

It was because of her that Alec's life had been nothing but miserable. That wasn't something anyone could easily forgive or forget. She knew she wasn't going to do either of those any time soon. No thanks to Manticore and their genius idea of developing eidetic memories in every one of the X5's.

She sighed deeply, and he followed suit.

Finally, irritation, frustration, and hurt bubbled over until she nearly burst at the seams. "Will you say something?" she ground out through clenched teeth.

His eyes widened minutely, his lips quirked, and a small smile lifted a corner of those lips. "What do you want me to say?"

"At least say goodbye," she sighed.

He shook his head. "I can't," he said softly. "And I'm not gonna go and say something dumb like 'bon voyage' or 'have a good life', or anything like that either. 'Cuz quite frankly, I don't want to."

She narrowed her eyes at him, stomping out the disappointment she felt. "Fine!" she all but yelled. She leaned down and picked up her duffel, tossed it over her shoulder and almost ran down towards her bike.

It _hurt_. It was a soul-stealing kind of hurt that almost paralyzed her. If she slowed down just a little bit, she knew she'd never be able to make herself move. She had to keep one foot in front of the other; she had to make sure she strapped her bag securely on the back of her bike. She had to throw her leg over her bike, gun the engine, and make her bike roar as loudly as possible. She had to keep moving. She didn't want to think about how much it would have meant to her if he'd at least said…

"_Don't_," he whispered, his hand suddenly closing around hers where they rested on the handlebars of her Ninja.

She had been so lost in her own despair she hadn't noticed him follow her. He was now so close to her that she could feel his warm breath against her ear. She realized that his fingers held down the brakes of her bike tightly. His hot breath tickled, but it was the almost-desperate plea in his voice that made her heart skip a beat.

"Alec?" she lifted her head to look at him. He was close—close enough that if she leaned towards him just a little bit she could kiss him. But he was so far away, his eyes shuttered, his face frozen, and his lips pressed tightly until they were bloodless.

"Is this…is this what you want?" he asked hoarsely, clearing his throat as if talking was painful.

Max looked straight ahead. "Maybe," she replied truthfully. "I told you that I couldn't stay where people looked at me like…" she shook her head thinking about the looks of disdain she had seen all those weeks ago. She couldn't explain why so many transgenics refused to look her in the eye. Now she knew. "Anyway, I figure it's time. I was gonna leave when Sam first came, remember? I was hopped on my bike, ready to kiss Seattle goodbye. But then I stayed."

"Why?"

She turned to look at him squarely in the eye. There was no hiding the truth now. "Cuz I thought I had family here." She looked away from him. "Guess I was wrong."

She felt, more than saw, him nod. There was a heartbeat's pause before his fingers tightened minutely around her hand before slowly releasing the brakes and letting go. Suddenly, her fingers felt cold, missing the warmth of his hand covering hers.

She swallowed painfully, but showed no other signs of noticing he had let her go.

"I lied," he muttered, taking a step back away from her. "I guess I am gonna say, 'Bon voyage, Max'. Good luck. Have a good life. Take care. Drive safely….hell, I'll even say, 'be careful'." His words were meant to be humorous, but his voice echoed dully.

She didn't chance another look at him, keeping her eyes on a single focal point somewhere in the distance that stretched ahead of her. Purposefully, she pulled out her dark glasses and slipped them securely over her eyes. The better to cover the tears that had begun to well, and threatened to spill over. "Try not to screw up too much. I won't be around to bail your ass out of trouble."

He snorted slightly, half-amused. "I've still got you on speed dial," he reminded her humorlessly.

"Yeah," she agreed with a sad smile softening her full lips. "You do." Then without another word, she shifted into gear and shot out of there.

Just before she turned a corner, she risked one more glance on her side mirror to see him one last time. But he wasn't there anymore.

"Bye, Alec…," she whispered into the air that whipped past her. She slowly unhooked her pager from its clip and let it drop onto the ground. She had a new life to look forward to; it was best not to look back. But she knew that no matter where she ended up, she would never find home again—because she had left home behind on a curb in Seattle.

**EPILOGUE TO FOLLOW**.

* * *

**A/N2: As a reminder to everyone, this is set AFTER "She Ain't Heavy" and BEFORE "Love Among the Runes". That's why Biggs isn't dead, but Logan thought Max and Alec were together. By the way, I'm taking Alec's super-accelerated healing from the idea that Max could save herself from White in "Harbor Lights" only hours after surgery. If she can do it, so can he. **


	13. Epilogue: Back to Good

**DISCLAIMER: Dark Angel isn't mine. I hate that fact, but wish I could do something about it.**

**A/N: If this sucks…it's your fault. LOL! Talk about pressure. In my mind, Speed Dial ended last chapter. In my heart, it ended last chapter. Can you blame me that this epilogue didn't want to be written? I stayed up until 2 AM forcing words out…and I wanna cry cuz I have to work tomorrow! But oh well. Let me know if there are any discrepancies, because I haven't read it over. I very rarely read anything I've ever written, because it just makes me…uncomfortable. But if y'all catch something, give me a heads-up so I can fix it okay? But be relatively nice…(please) because I really did put some serious time and effort into finishing Speed Dial for everyone.**

**A/N2: I loved Zane from my other story, When I'm With You. I figured I'd use him as a cute plot device again. He's such a sweet ass. Enjoy Zane's zany-ness!**

**A/N3: Thanks to Jenwin23 for suggesting that I add some more Alec-angst. It's there now. Just a little bit. Hehehe.**

**

* * *

**

**EPILOGUE**

Max frowned at her buzzing pager.

She pushed back the dark hair that had fallen over her eye with an impatient growl. Everyone knew better than to bother her while she was working. She impatiently reached down and pressed a button to stop the thing from distracting her. She didn't bother checking the number that had flashed through the tiny screen. Instead, she went back to work, her brow furrowed in concentration and mild annoyance.

The pager buzzed and vibrated against her hip again.

She sighed and stopped what she was doing. She reached down and shut it off again.

But within seconds, the darned thing was buzzing, beeping and vibrating again. She stifled a sigh, and instead rolled her eyes heavenward. Only, she didn't see blue skies or gray clouds. She saw rusty pipes and slightly damp, moldy corners.

This time, she reached down and grabbed a hold of her pager, looking at the numbers that flashed through the screen. All three pages had come from the same number. "This better be good," she muttered under her breath.

She quickly finished what she had set out to do and pushed herself from under the sink. She stood up and brushed imaginary cobwebs off, before smiling apologetically at the worried-looking woman who had been hovering over her for the last fifteen minutes.

"Just need to replace the U-pipe and you're good to go," she said, wiping her hands on the towel that hung from her tool belt.

The strawberry-haired woman just looked blankly back at her.

Max resisted the urge to roll her eyes and sigh out loud. Instead, she held up the pipe in her hand. It was shaped like a U. "This one."

"Oh."

Max's pager went off again, and this time the woman's gray eyes looked questioningly at it. "Is anything the matter?" she inquired.

Max shrugged, glancing cursorily over the bluish tint of the screen. It was the same number. "It's fine. Just work-related issues," she replied dismissively. She laid the U-pipe on the kitchen counter and smiled politely at her client. "I'll send a co-worker to finish the job."

Her pager beeped again. Max seriously considered running it down the garbage compactor right next to the sink. She smiled apologetically at the woman, whose brow had creased so much her eyebrows were almost meeting down the middle. "Looks like it's an emergency. I'm really sorry, lady, but I gotta blaze," she said in a rush, gathering all her tools and shoving them into a metal box with a series of clangs and thuds.

"But…what about my sink?"

Max shrugged, then looked meaningfully around the mansion. "I'm sure you got other ones." She resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the older woman. Instead, she turned around and started to leave the way she came in.

"Wait! How do I pay you?" asked the woman.

Max waved her off with a careless flick of her wrist as she walked past. "Don't worry 'bout it," she replied easily. "I'll send a bill."

Besides, the two Swarovski crystal figurines weighing heavily in her pockets were more than enough to payment.

With a small Cheshire cat grin, Max walked outside into the California sunshine. She looked out towards the Pacific Ocean and took a deep breath. It still amazed her how different this part of San Francisco was from the rest of the city. The houses here were massive, their windows sparkled, their lawns were mowed and green, and people could even afford to smile and wave nicely at each other.

Max walked towards the beat-up black '69 Camaro she'd bought and threw her tool bag in the backseat. Then she slid into the driver's seat of her car and gunned the engine.

**

* * *

**

"_ZANE_!" she hollered, slamming the apartment door shut with a loud bang behind her. "This better be good!"

She made a beeline straight for the kitchen and towards the fridge. She grabbed a half-eaten sandwich, not really caring if it had once been hers or Zane's. Not that it mattered, since they pretty much stole everything from each other. She'd been sharing the apartment with Zane for the last four months. It had only taken two months of near-non-stop searching to find him in Los Angeles. Then, she had convinced him to move to San Francisco to stay under the radar.

She wondered if he had heard from Syl, Krit or any of the others. Since finding each other, they'd taken up following leads on the rest of their siblings. It was almost like a hobby. It was something she had to live for.

She took a beer from the fridge, and then shoved the sandwich into her mouth when she decided to pull another bottle out for Zane.

"Zane!" she called again, her voice muffled by the bread that hung from her mouth.

He finally sauntered into the kitchen from the living room area, a lazy grin on his handsome face. He leaned casually against the counter next to her, effectively dwarfing her with his six-foot-five frame. "You hollered?" he drawled.

"You paged?" she countered, an eyebrow arched.

Zane's intensely blue eyes glittered mysteriously. More than once, Max was reminded of the strange beauty of Trask's eyes each time she looked into Zane's. Maybe, they had the same genetic donor spliced into them. Either way, his eyes were a disconcerting blue, so bright that they looked like a light was forever shining from behind them.

And while Zane was indecently handsome as was Manticore's standards, his eyes drowned out everything else in a room. A person simply could not help but be mesmerized. Like she was now. Max blinked in annoyance. "Stop staring," she snapped. "It's rude."

"_You_ stop staring," he retorted. "I can't be expected to walk around with my eyes closed. Besides, it's not my fault that I'm blindingly handsome."

Max rolled her eyes at him. "Oh, puh-lease! Not that again."

He chuckled. "I speak the truth, Baby."

She narrowed her eyes at him and flicked a piece of bread towards him. He swatted it away easily with one hand. "You're such a brat."

"Whatever," Zane shrugged, and stretched languidly, extending his long, lean body up, so that his hands actually touched the ceiling. Max stared suspiciously at him. He was acting too casually, like he always did when he was building up the courage to tell her something.

"Whatever it is, Zane, I'm gonna find out anyway, so might as well spit it out," she said calmly, giving him the sternest look she could muster. There was something about Zane that just made it hard to be angry at him. Every time she looked at him, she just couldn't rouse up enough reason to be really angry with him. It was those eyes, dammit.

"Well…" he stalled, by carefully cracking his fingers one-by-one.

"Did you find out anything about the others?" she asked impatiently.

He looked at her, his brilliant eyes boring into her in a way that made the hairs on the back of her arms stand on end. "You could say that," he said carefully.

"Really?" she asked breathlessly.

She caught the slight flicker of his eyes towards the living room, and she found herself pushing past his tall frame and into the other room in a rush. "Krit? Syl?"

But her breath caught in her throat at the sight of the person standing by the window.

"Hey, Max."

"Alec." Her voice was breathless, like she'd been punched in the gut really hard. She felt knots start to form in her stomach, her hands went cold and sweaty, and her throat was so dry she found herself swallowing several times just to stop it from sticking shut.

He looked as good as he did in her dreams.

His hair was slightly longer now, curling just over the collar of his jean jacket. The top looked ruffled, like he constantly ran his hands through the tangled curls. His hazel-green eyes—not as striking as Zane's, but infinitely more mesmerizing to her—were not as bright as she remembered, but there was still a glimmer of amusement in them. He seemed broader and taller than she remembered, too. It was a reminder that six months of just dreaming about him, replaying memories of him in her mind, came nowhere close to really being in his presence. His blue-gray sweater was stretched taut over his chest, emphasizing broad-shoulders. His dark-blue jeans hung loosely around his hips and legs, hiding the slight bow in his legs that she knew was there. That slight imperfection only made him all the more perfect to her.

He took a step forward, and before she could stop, she found herself taking a step back, maintaining the distance between them. "What are you doing here?" she asked, her tone almost accusing. "How did you find me?" She hadn't been ready to see him. She hadn't _expected_ to see him today.

At all.

Ever again.

Yet, there he was standing in front of her, indecently handsome, and very, very real.

**

* * *

**

Alec licked his lips uncomfortably, unsure with how to deal with Max's hostility. He'd always known where she was. She had promised to keep in touch with Original Cindy and Sketchy. Alec couldn't make Cindy say a word to him, but Sketchy had been an easy source of information. Even Logan had been willing—to his surprise—to give him information about how Max was doing. All he ever had to do was ask.

Then when things had gone FUBAR all over the media, he had suddenly found every reason to show up at her doorstep.

Except that, the last thing he had expected when he arrived in San Francisco was another man to open Max's apartment door. Worse, a _taller_, _darker_, good-looking (Alec wasn't gonna give on the better-looking part) man. Worst of all, he was transgenic, too.

Zane—as the other guy had been called—had instantly recognized him. Calling him first by his designation, then by his name, and then inviting him inside. He'd said something about how he knew so much about him by the way Max _never_ talked about him. Zane hadn't bothered to explain that statement, and Alec couldn't bring himself to ask for an explanation. He'd been too busy trying to keep his expression blank…because it had been a knife in the gut to see pieces of Max intertwined with pieces of Zane.

They obviously lived together, and the almost-cozy feeling of the apartment told him that Max was probably pretty happy with the arrangement. He had almost turned around and left at that point. He hadn't even considered that Max might be happy _away_ from him. He certainly had been nothing but empty and miserable without her.

He had turned to Zane, to tell him that he was leaving, except that Zane seemed to be one step ahead of him, and had kept on insisting that Max was on the way.

And Max had come home, just like Zane said. She'd come home, hollered out Zane's name…and Alec's heart had ached just a little bit at the familiarity and warmth in her tone. He'd tried not to, but he'd listened in on their conversation in the kitchen. They were comfortable in each other's company. He'd seen the little piece of bread that flew across the room towards Zane. Max was even playful with him…and Max used to be as playful as a rabid dog.

Then Zane had called her "Baby", and Alec had been torn between jumping out the window and running away as fast as he could from their coupledom bliss, or beating the life out of Zane, tossing Max over his shoulder and taking her with him.

His fists clenched and it was a real effort to keep his breathing even and his face blank.

He had spent the last six months _pining_ for her, and she had gone off and lived with another man. The universe had a really twisted sense of humor, and he seemed to be the butt of every fucking joke. Suddenly, he understood exactly how appealing running away could be. How the possibility of suffocating and choking up inside was suddenly very real, and how the only need inside of him was to be _away._

But before he could make an escape, there she was, rushing into the room like a whirlwind. And she took his breath away. "Hey, Max."

"Alec."

She was different, yet the same. She had cut her hair to shoulder length, and dyed it a lighter brown. The leather he had once associated with her was nowhere to be found, and instead, she was wearing a pair of dark blue overalls that did nothing to hide her figure. A tool belt hung low over her hips, looking more like a fashion accessory than a job necessity.

Her brown eyes were the same, though. At first, Alec had read the shock and confusion in her eyes. He had seen the turmoil of emotions churn in those dark eyes. Then just like that, she had blinked and he couldn't read those eyes anymore. "What are you doing here?" she'd demanded.

He had taken a step forward.

She had stepped back.

She might as well have slapped him in the face. He stood completely still, his outward composure belying the pain, anger, confusion, and desire that warred inside of him. "I…" he trailed off, suddenly realizing that the reason he was standing in her apartment in the first place was to take her home to Seattle.

But that had been under the assumption that she would have easily gone home with him after he'd explained everything. He had come expecting to be some kind of knight in shining armor. But then, maybe she didn't need him at all. Maybe she really was better off without him. Maybe…maybe she never belonged with him in the first place.

In any case…he suddenly had no reason to be butting into her life again. He had wiped away that smile on her face the moment she saw it was him. He almost wished she'd simply hit him with a slugger right then and there instead of letting him see the look of panic and distance in her eye.

"I had some news…and I figured…" he shrugged, letting her finish the statement as she wished.

"How did you find me?" she demanded instead again, tapping her booted foot impatiently on the wooden floors.

"Wasn't hard," he said, shoving his hands into his pants pockets. "I mean, you told Cindy and Logan where to find you." Alec couldn't quite keep the bitterness from his tone. He looked at her, his eyes asking why she hadn't thought to tell him how to find her.

Her lips compressed together into a tight line. "What do you want from me?" she asked abruptly, her expression as tight as her lips.

"Baby, I think it's _obvious_ what he wants," drawled Zane, whom both of them had forgotten was still in the room.

"Zane! Vanish!" she snapped, her eyes burning brightly with anger.

Instead, he just laughed and stayed exactly where he was. Max threw a quick, frustrated glance at Alec before pushing the taller man out into the kitchen again. She didn't let up until Zane was backed against the far wall.

"Why didn't you tell me he was here?" she hissed quietly.

"Would you have come if I had?" he countered, not at all concerned that she was mad and could probably break every bone in his body.

"Yes!" she replied angrily. "And I would've been prepared!"

"_Liar_," he drawled lazily.

"This is just awkward!"

"Congratulations on figuring that out," he smirked, sarcasm coating his words.

She pulled his shirt and shoved him hard against the wall. "This is not funny!" she said through gritted teeth. "And this is all your fault!"

Zane rolled his eyes at Max. "Look, the way I see it, he has something to say and you have something to say. So…why don't the two of you kids just spit it out and get it over with. Like a band-aid, y'know, just do it."

Suddenly, Max's face crumpled into a look of pure vulnerability. It was a look Zane had never seen on his sister's face before. He knew that she cared about Alec, he just hadn't realized how much until now.

Her eyes told him that what she felt for Alec completely left her bare. And he almost understood how terrifying that must be. He took her face in his hands, cupping them gently. "Maxie, what have you got to lose?" he asked so softly that his voice was barely a caress.

"You wouldn't understand…" she said bitterly, her eyes welling up in tears. Zane had once admitted to her that he avoided anything that would even remotely resemble a relationship like the plague.

"Make me."

"Zane…" she begged. "Don't make me say it."

He smiled gently at her. "Consider it practice. Now, tell good ol' Big Brother Zane how you feel about little ol' Alec over there."

"I can't just be expected to say that I love—"

"Looks like I'm interrupting something here," said Alec, breaking her off as he suddenly appeared at the kitchen doorway. "I'm just gonna go." His tone was brittle, his eyes shining feverishly like he was desperately trying to hold on to some semblance of control.

Max's mouth went dry at the thought of Alec leaving…of losing him again. Zane was right, this could be her last chance. Only, she didn't know how to make the most of it. Subconsciously, she clung to Zane harder, and she saw Alec's eyes flicker towards her hands, tightening around Zane's shirt.

Zane must have seen the same thing because he all but threw her away from him so fast that she almost stumbled. Then he grinned at Alec. "No, no, no, buddy," he said, shaking his head and waving his hands in a negative gesture. "_I'll _go and _you_ stay. Little Max here has something _important_ to say to you."

Max threw a death glare at Zane, but he just chuckled, "Band-aid, remember."

Then he grabbed his jacket on his way out and left the apartment with a small click of the door.

"You have something to say to me?" asked Alec, his face politely inquiring and distant.

"You had some news you needed to tell me?" she countered, stalling, her heart thundering as she considered all the ways to tell him she loved him.

Suddenly, Alec's expression was wiped clean. His eyes turned somber and dark, and the corners of his lips tilted downward. "Yeah," he murmured quietly.

The changes in his expression sent warning bells ringing in Max's head. Her own features settled into a frown as well. "What is it? What's happened?" her tone became brisk and businesslike.

He clenched his jaw and took a deep breath, uncertain with how to proceed. He ran a hand tiredly over his face. "Max, haven't you been watching the news?" he asked softly.

She looked away guiltily. "I don't own a tube, and it's not like I wanna be reminded of how we're on everybody's _1,000 Things to Shoot Dead Before You Die_ list."

Alec looked down at the floor, ran a hand tiredly through his hair and sighed heavily. Then, he reached inside his leather jacket and pulled out a disk. "Then you need to see this."

Max eyed it warily. "What is it?"

"It's from Logan. News coverage of the so-called 'Transgenic Situation' in Seattle." His expression was sober and dark.

Max tentatively reached over and took the disk from his fingers. She popped it into Zane's computer and waited impatiently for the footage to load. Her throat felt tight and it was like an elephant was sitting on her chest. She didn't really need to see or hear it to _know_ what happened.

It was there—in his eyes, in his face, in the tone of his voice—and she felt the old need to run away from the suffocating feeling of terror rise inside of her again. Her limbs actually ached with the need to get away from the horror of the situation. But she knew that running away didn't really make her problems go away.

In fact, just like Alec, they had a tendency of finding her anyway.

When Max had been a child, just after the Pulse, she had watched as a large wrecking crew had arrived in one of the squatter areas she used to live in. They had come with their bulldozers and wrecking balls and packs of C4. And she had watched from nearby as they methodically brought a fifteen-story building down into a giant heap of ruble within minutes.

Watching the Sector Police brutally beat a transhuman to death was like seeing that building fall slowly to the ground. It was watching something so terrible to its inevitable conclusion…and knowing she could do nothing to stop it.

Max felt a sob try to break out of her chest. "Say it," she whispered, still needing to hear the words out loud.

"He's dead."

"There's more to this, isn't there?" Her voice was a hoarse whisper, barely able to form the words. "There are others."

Alec compressed his lips tightly as memories of recovering bodies of their fellow transgenics flashed through his mind. He stared blindly at the wooden floors of Max's apartment, willing the images to go away. He could still remember clearly the way the blood made his fingers slip over their skin as he tried to drag their bodies away. He could still smell the ash from the burning wooden X's. He could—

Max's warm hand closed lightly around his wrist. "Alec?"

"People," he said softly. "Just people. They were attacked by a fearful, mindless mob, Max."

Max's heart throbbed painfully at the hurt and anger in his voice. "This is my fault, Alec," she whispered sadly, wanting to take the burden away from him.

He looked at her, frowning darkly. He grabbed her by the upper arms and almost shook her. "No, it's _not_."

Max tore away from his grip. "Oh, yeah? Well, who burned down Manticore in the first place? Who made them—_all of us_—into fugitives, into free-for-all targets? It was me, Alec! Don't you get it? It was me! And it's all my fault that they're all dead!"

Alec stared at Max's stricken face, not knowing what to say in response to her outburst. She leaned heavily against the wall, her tool belt jangling noisily, the only sound in the apartment. Alec walked towards Max, his footsteps barely making any noise on the wooden floors. He reached forward and cupped her face gently in one hand. "Listen to me, Maxie," he murmured softly. "It is _not_ your fault. You did what you thought was right."

She looked up at him with tired brown eyes. "What if I was wrong?" she asked softly. "What if everyone was better off in Manticore? At least all those who died would still be alive."

Alec clenched his jaw tightly. "Max, do you hear yourself talking right now? Manticore? Better? And even _if _they would have been alive, they wouldn't really have any kind of life now, would they?"

Max looked away from him. "Wasn't it you who said that it wasn't so bad in the first place? Food everyday, shelter over your head." She twisted her lips in self-derision as she remembered the first time they met.

Alec snorted. "I was…"

"An ass?" she filled in with mock sweetness.

The corner of his lips lifted into a small smirk. "I was gonna say that I was trying to convince myself, too."

"Alec…" she sighed tremulously. All this tenderness from him was breaking down her defenses like no wrecking ball ever could. He still had his hand just around her nape, his thumb tracing lazy lines over her jaw bone. She felt every brush down to the tips of her toes, melting her, weakening her. This was exactly one of the reasons why she had left. When it came to Alec, she was just weak. "I…what are you doing here? You could've just called or written me a letter…you didn't have to come."

"Called? With the phone number you _didn't_ give me? And write you a letter? I didn't exactly get one of those maps with the big 'Max is here.' sign." he mocked slightly, removing his hand from her.

"You would've found a way," she retorted. She was already missing his touch. She subconsciously reached up and traced the warmth he had left with his fingertips on her cheek.

"I did. I'm here."

She eyed him in annoyance. "But _why_?"

Alec threw an exasperated, tired look up at the ceiling before running his hand roughly through his hair. "I just thought that with the way things are going for our kind that you might…that it'd be easier…safer…if you came back to TC."

She looked at him in disbelief, her dark brown eyes both sad and angry at the same time. "Alec, I _can't _go back! Not especially with what's happening out there! Who do you think they're gonna blame?"

Alec clenched his jaw in an effort to control his mounting frustration. "That's just what I've been saying, Max! Nobody blames you!"

"Oh, really?" she drawled sarcastically, her eyes spitting fire. "You think I was just imagining all those looks people gave me, the whispers behind my back?" She pushed off away from the wall and advanced menacingly down on him.

"Do you think I _wanted _to hear those things that 735 said?" she demanded, pushing a forefinger on his chest. "Do you think I _wanted _to be known as the Queen Bitch?" she jabbed her finger on his chest again until he took a step backward.

"Why do you think I'm such a bitch in the first place? Because everywhere I went, people had already figured out exactly who I was! Nobody really wanted to know me!" This time, she placed both her hands flat on his chest and pushed.

"I think you should go." She said softly, as he stumbled a few steps away from her. They stared at each other in silence. Max wasn't sure whether her face showed her anguish, or if she had succeeded in looking like the queen bitch she had been accused of being.

She was trembling inside. She had never told anyone of how hurt she was about her reception at Terminal City. The way people just accepted Alec and all the others, but not her. Never her.

She had barely even acknowledged it for herself. She had just given in to the final urge to run away. She thought she was doing the right thing, especially for Alec. He was in a place where he belonged…and that was somewhere she could never belong.

"Please, Alec," she said, her voice quivering, and she hated it. "Just go. I'll be fine here."

He didn't answer for a long time. Instead, he just looked at her, like he was seeing her for the first time. Then, he slowly walked towards her, his eyes never leaving her face. Max broke eye contact, but refused to back away from him.

Alec had never seen Max look more beautiful than she did now. She was trembling, the fine tremors barely noticeable under her skin, but she was still defiant and desperately searching for strength inside of her. He wanted nothing more than to be her strength. So, he continued to take small, quiet steps towards her, hoping against hope she didn't run away from him anymore.

"The first time we met," he whispered suddenly. "I hated you."

She gasped slightly at his admission and looked down at the strong pulse that beat at the base of his neck. He was pretty sure she could see how fast and how erratic his heartbeat was. He noticed the tiny movement of her shoulders that told him she was about to back away from him. He caught her chin before she could move away.

He lifted her face, forcing her to meet his eyes again. "I was programmed to hate you on sight. I had enough pain inside of me to make sure I never forgot that it was your fault. I had _every _reason to hurt you as much as I've been hurt because of you. That's why they assigned me to you."

Max took a deep, shaky breath at his words, but did not break eye contact. To hear it from Alec, from the one person who meant the most to her…it almost destroyed her. If he was punishing her, then she knew she deserved it.

"But you know what?" he murmured in wonder. "I _couldn't_ hate you."

She looked at him, eyes widening. She opened her mouth to say something, but he shushed her with a fingertip.

"You were vibrant and alive. You were feisty and strong. You were everything they had taken away from me. And to be honest, I figured along the way that none of the shit they did to me was really your fault. They just wanted to take away the same things they'd already taken away from me."

"Alec," she sighed, her lips brushing against his fingertips, not sure what to name the emotion that was stealing her breath away.

"I couldn't hate you…but I never, _ever_, in my wildest dreams thought I would fall in love with you."

"What?" she gasped, her heart thundering.

"Every time I was with you, I only saw the opposite of what Manticore had painted you out to be. You cared about everything with a fire and a passion that you _shouldn't_ even have. No one ever taught us to care. And even if it's just whether or not Sketchy got in trouble with some thugs, you still cared. And I wanted so badly to be one of those people you cared about," he explained. "But I knew…well, after everything that I did to you…I knew you probably wouldn't."

"You're wrong," she whispered.

"Yeah, I had to be, right? Because you've saved my life dozens of times even when you had absolutely no reason to. I mean, even for someone who had caused your life to go sideways, you had enough compassion in you to…to still…" he broke off and looked away from her. He didn't know how to continue. He didn't know how to say just exactly what she meant to him. How does one say something there weren't even words to express?

She continued to stare at him expectantly, her face an unreadable mask of confused emotion. He sighed and slowly allowed his fingers to wrap around her neck, and he pulled her to him in a gentle hug. He held her ear just over his heart, so she could hear what no words could express.

"Max, you have to understand that…most of us in TC already figured Manticore had been wrong all about you and your Unit. And they'll figure out just how…" he shook his head tiredly, and just tightened his hold on her. "But I guess you won't be coming home now."

"Alec?" she murmured against his chest. It felt so good to be held close to him, to feel his warm fingers gently massaging the back of her neck, the relaxing warmth that flowed from his body.

"Hmm?"

"When I first met you, I thought you were someone else." She murmured tentatively, her lips and face still snuggled against his chest. She couldn't really bear to look at him when she admitted that. It was far too personal. Far too vulnerable.

"Ben." he said, releasing a somewhat strangled laugh.

"Yeah, Ben," she nodded. "But you're not Ben. At first I hoped you'd be like him. Then I thought that I was being stupid to hope. Like I always said, hope is for losers. A con job people trip behind till they faced the cold hard truth. But I still wanted you to _be_ Ben. I could save you every time, and it'd be all right. The truth is though, you're nothing like him."

Alec's hold on her had gone slack, and she looked up to see his face. His eyes looked distant and bleak. Max reached up and cupped his face between her hands. "Cold, hard truth is, I've come to think that's an even better thing," she whispered softly.

A spark of hope burned in his hazel eyes. Max smiled tentatively at him. "You're someone who should've been…like 735. But you're not. And that makes all the difference to me. That and you drive me up the wall in a way no one has ever managed to…you drive me nuts…and…" she sighed helplessly with a slight smile.

"Maxie, are you saying you're crazy about me?"

She felt herself blush, and she reached up to hit him playfully upside his head. "I'm not saying that!"

He grinned and caught her wrist easily. "Or maybe you're just crazy?"

She tried to pull her hand away from him, but he tightened his grip playfully. "Watch your mouth, Pretty Boy, or I'mma give you a cranium crack," she retorted, but her eyes were shining, and he was smiling down at her intimately.

"Well, if it makes you feel better," he murmured, raising her hand to his lips and kissing her knuckles. "I'm feeling a little cranium cracked already."

"That just makes my world all unbent," she drawled quietly, but her eyes were on his lips, where her finger tips were now touching softly.

"Max, I'm cr—what the—your barcode's not enough, you're getting tattoos now?" he said, his entire demeanor changing dramatically, as he pulled her hand away from him in surprise. He turned her wrist over so they could both look at it.

Sure enough, dark ink-like marks were decorating her skin. They stared in surprise as more marks appeared, as if an invisible hand were using her skin as parchment.

"Oh, my God," Max gasped.

"What the hell are they?" demanded Alec.

"I don't know!"

Their eyes met, Max's startled and confused, Alec's determined and concerned. "Max, you're coming home to Seattle with me."

She pulled away from him with a jerk, shaking her head. "Alec, I—"

Suddenly, Alec's cellphone rang, breaking the silence in the room. They stared at each other tersely for a moment, before he finally reached into his pocket and flipped his phone open.

"Go for Alec," he said, his voice brisk and toneless. His eyes never left Max's stricken face. He could tell that she was frightened. Her eyes kept darting back towards her arm, where he could see more marks appear.

He was scared, too, in a way that made him feel utterly helpless. He hated feeling helpless.

_Alec, this is Chase. It's Biggs. He's in trouble._

Max looked up quickly, obviously hearing the distressed voice on the other end of the line. Her eyebrow quirked, asking him without words exactly what was going on.

"I'm on my way there. Tell him to hang on." With that, Alec flipped his phone closed. He gave Max one hard, decisive look. "I have to go. Biggs has been…attacked."

Max didn't say a word. He saw her breathing turn shallow, her eyes darting around the room.

"Max," he said softly. "Are you coming with me?"

She closed her eyes, obviously torn. Her fists were clenched, her whole body was rigid. Alec knew that his friend needed him. He couldn't stay. He _had_ to convince her to come with him. He had to show her. Without another word, he took her into his arms and kissed her.

He crushed his lips against hers with an almost painful intensity. Her eyes flew open in surprise, but she didn't pull away. He softened the kiss, his lips slanting over hers until she opened her mouth for him.

Then he closed his eyes and allowed himself to drown in the act of kissing her. For months he had dreamed of this. Of having her arms wrapped around his neck like this, of having her body pressed against his, clinging to him, of having her moan softly into his lips, of tasting her…of loving her.

If she didn't come with him now…then at least he'd have this. He'd always remember this.

He bit her lower lip lightly before pulling away from the kiss. He rested his forehead gently against hers. "Max…come with me," he whispered, there was no pride in his voice, just a small plea.

"Alec…" There was still hesitation in her eyes and in her voice.

He kissed her again before she could say no. He pushed her back against the wall and kissed her with an almost desperate passion. His hands traveled down her shoulders, caressing the sides of her breasts, and settled easily over her hips. He kept her body imprisoned against the wall by leaning his weight completely over it.

She was responding to him, kissing him back with almost equal pressure. Her fingers gripped his hair tightly into something that bordered on pleasure-pain.

"Max," he murmured against her jaw. "Are you coming with me?" His voice was hoarse with the mixture of desire and fear.

Max pulled away from him and looked into his eyes. There were so many things happening all at once. The tattoos on her arms, the trouble with Biggs, the problems with White and his Breeding Cult, the fear about whether or not she'd be welcome back in Terminal City…

…but they were all eclipsed by the look in his eyes and the fact that she was in his arms like she'd dreamed of for so long.

"Yes," she replied softly. "I'm coming with you."

"Thank God," he muttered, a look of sheer relief and joy crossing his face. "I don't think I could have lived without you."

Max was pretty sure a supernova had exploded somewhere near her heart. "Alec," she murmured, leaning forward in preparation of kissing him again. "Just for the record, I said it first."

"Said what first?"

"I love you." Then she leaned forward to kiss him.

But he pulled away quickly for a second, a smirk on his handsome face. "Does this mean I can have you back on my speed dial?"

**

* * *

**

**THE END.**

Finally.

**A/N3: Just for the record, I'm pretty sure I set this **_**before**_** Love Among the Runes…and I just overlapped a bit. I thought that Max needed a gigantic push to go back to Seattle, so the runes (which they didn't know were runes, yet), Biggs getting attacked, and realizing Alec loved her…I figured that was big enough to overcome anything else she was feeling. What say you, reader?**


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